


Say So

by Jackalopelegs



Series: Lady Belmont [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ 闇の呪印 | Castlevania: Curse of Darkness, 悪魔城伝説 | Castlevania lll: Dracula's Curse
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Regency, Canon-Typical Violence, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Drama & Romance, Dream Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hair-pulling, Light Angst, Loss of Virginity, Love Confessions, Marriage, Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Reader-Insert, Resolved Sexual Tension, Semi-Public Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Unsafe Sex, Wedding Night, Weddings, Wet Clothing, Wet Dream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:09:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28455126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackalopelegs/pseuds/Jackalopelegs
Summary: Your first season as debutante on the marriage market in London started out like a dream. Carter House, the city home of your widowed aunt and your cousins, was practically flooded with gentlemen callers vying for your affections and your hand in marriage.Then everything was ruined. A series of unfair events that were not your fault led to the damaging of your reputation. Not even halfway the season, and you’ve given up hope of finding a husband.However, fate has a funny way of bringing people together. Trevor Belmont, the last surviving member of his own family, returned to London just in time for the last ball you promised your aunt you’d attend. When you catch each other’s eyes across the ballroom, you’re not sure if you can still keep that promise.
Relationships: Trevor Belmont & Reader, Trevor Belmont/Reader
Series: Lady Belmont [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2114673
Comments: 30
Kudos: 47





	1. Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings I am back on my Trevor bullshit. Anyway I binged Netflix’ Bridgerton and then started writing this monster. I’m not a history major so if you’re here for anything but mutual pining and lots of sexual tension you will be disappointed. It’s written in second person, but there’s no “Y/N” or whatever in here because I don’t vibe with that and I wanna keep my chakras aligned.
> 
> (Yes the title is absolutely taken from Doja Cat’s “Say So” please don’t call me out..........)
> 
> On a more serious note, I added the rape/non-con archive warning for the reason why the reader’s reputation has been harmed. Nothing is explicitly described, and that’s all I will write in terms of non-con! Everything else is going to be wholesome... or not >:)
> 
> Anyway here’s a tall glass of water, have at it you thirsty people.
> 
> EDIT 4 Jan 2021: Any and all smut will have their own dedicated chapters and marked with X. So... you know. If you want to skip ahead to the good stuff, be my guest ;)

“Are you going to pout the entire evening?”

You turn your head to look at Marcus, still frowning. Your eldest cousin, head of the Carter family since his father died, had agreed to act as your chaperone for your last ball of the season. It wasn’t _the_ last ball of the season, but you weren’t planning on attending any more. Why would you? You were considered to be damaged goods, and now no sensible man would want to take you as his wife. Your chances had been ruined by that sickening, slimy Lord Galway.

If only it weren’t inappropriate to attend without wearing gloves. Maybe the other guests would make the connection between your bruised knuckles and Lord Galway’s messed up face.

“I’ll pout for as long as I please,” you respond, looking out through the window again. “It’s not like it’ll change anything.”

Marcus sighs and shakes his head. “Come now, cousin. Cornelius Galway will be dealt with. Your name will be cleared before you know it.”

This only riled you up even more. You huff, refusing to answer your cousin. After Lord Galway tried to force himself onto you during last week’s soirée, you’d given him a taste of your fists.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Nobody had seen what had happened. When asked, it was your word against his. Lord Galway painted you as some sort of minx who tried to seduce him. Of course he “had refused you and told you it was improper”, but “you wouldn’t take no for an answer”. You weren’t sure who were the bigger idiots: Lord Galway for giving that explanation when his face had been beaten black and blue, or the other attending guests for actually _believing_ him.

You considered yourself lucky that your family had your back. Marcus was livid, even prepared to duel Lord Galway, but you’d stopped him before he could make the arrangements. If anything, you’d prefer shooting the bastard yourself... but that wasn’t the point. Duels are illegal, not to mention _deadly_. If word somehow gets out that another one of the Carters has gotten mixed up in _another_ scandal, or worse, Marcus gets fatally wounded... well, you’re not sure if your aunt’s heart could take it.

So there you are, fulfilling your promise to your aunt. One last ball this season, and then you’ll simply stay home with your two younger cousins.

*

There’s no dancing for you tonight, no matter how good the music is. You don’t want to. Besides, you’re sure that even if you _tried_ to find partners to dance with, your dance card would still remain blank. Marcus walks over to you and hands you a drink. Champagne. He takes a sip from his own glass while looking around with a concerned expression. “Has nobody come to speak with you at all?”

“None. They’re all afraid of my reputation, I bet,” you grumble.

Marcus shoots you a look. “Or maybe you just look unapproachable. You could at least smile, you know?”

Your head snaps to look at Marcus and through gritted teeth you say to him, “Marcus, tell me to smile one more time and see what happens.”

Your cousin stares at you, then lets out a laugh with a snorting sound. _Very_ unbecoming. He quickly covers his mouth, drawing out a laugh from you as well. It’s hard to stay in a bad mood with him around. Marcus is only a few years older than you, and you’ve always been close. Especially after moving in at Carter House after your parents’ passing, he acted more like an older brother to you. You appreciate it a lot, having him and your two younger cousins Prudence and Grace around. Of course you miss your parents, but together with aunt Sophia they’re all the family you need.

There’s no sign of Lord Galway this evening. You have a theory or two about why he didn’t show up. Slowly you allow yourself to relax. Damn these people and their lousy opinions. Your last ball should be a fun one. After finishing your champagne you’re about to ask Marcus for another one, when you spot someone across the ballroom. You’ve been to many of these gatherings since the start of the season, and you’re sure you haven’t seen him before. You’d remember a face like that, you think to yourself. He’s handsome. Devastatingly so. Tall, with broad shoulders. A more mischievous and inappropriate part of yourself wonders what he’d look like with his clothes off. There’s a sheathed sword hanging from a belt on his hip, and for a moment you wonder why he’d have a weapon with him. However, when he runs a hand through his hair while talking and smiles at one of the people next to him, you’re focussed on his face again. At this point you’re outright staring, drinking in his facial features. His dark hair, the shape of his brow, his jawline... You’re surprised to see a scar straight down across his left eye. Oh, those _eyes_. They’re such a brilliant shade of blue.

They’re also looking right at you.

Quickly you avert your gaze, pretending to drink from your empty glass. Yes, you think to yourself. You would have remembered a face like that. You would have also remembered the absolute crowd of ladies that has formed around him.

“Wow,” you hear Marcus say. Looking at him, you see he’s got a lopsided grin plastered to his face. “You really were just staring at him, weren’t you?”

Looking away, you clear your throat and hand him your empty glass of champagne. “I’d like another, please.” Hesitantly you steal another glance at the handsome stranger. “So. Are you going to tell me who he is?”

Marcus puts way the empty champagne glasses on the tray of a servant walking past, then links your arm with his. He grins devilishly. “Why don’t you ask him yourself? Come with me. You can get more champagne later.”

You want to protest, feeling like you’re being put on the spot, but you know the stranger is still looking at you and... Well. You almost hate to admit it, but you don’t want to mess this up. Marcus leads you across the dance floor, expertly navigating both of you between the dancing couples. Your free hand holds onto your dress, hitching it up ever so slightly so you won’t trip. Is it the corset or your nerves that’s making it hard to breathe?

“Belmont!” Marcus calls out, shamelessly making the crowd of ladies make room for the two of you. Are you blushing or is it the alcohol that’s making your face so warm? Your cousin unlinks his arm from yours and goes to greet the stranger, exchanging a hug. “It’s good to see you back in London.” Marcus turns back to you to take your hand and lead you a step closer. “Allow me to introduce my cousin.”

You curtsy, lowering your head to look at the ground, and introduce yourself politely. Marcus gestures at his friend — damn him for not telling you beforehand — and says, “This is Lord Trevor Belmont, an old friend of mine. We know each other from our time at university.”

Trevor bows a little, looking at you with the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

You’re sure you’d lose yourself staring at him again were it not for the crowd of ladies surrounding you. You can feel the hostile stares burn, and can hear the conniving whispers. The marriage market is cutthroat. You can tell that you’ve earned a couple of new rivals at this point. It’s all nearly enough to make you lose your composure, but you’d never give them that kind of satisfaction.

“A pleasure to meet you too, Lord Belmont,” you say and smile at him. It’s a genuine smile, because it’s true. For a change you don’t have to pretend to be interested in someone.

However, the whispering crowd offers you the painful reminder that it’s unlikely the interest will be mutual.

Marcus sees the slight shift in your facial expression, then gestures vaguely and quickly says, “I can barely hear you two over the music and the crowd. Let us head somewhere a little quieter. My apologies, ladies, I’ll be stealing Lord Belmont away for a moment...”

*

You’re seated next to Trevor. With an appropriate amount of space between the two of you, of course. “Start another scandal” is not high up on your to-do list. Your hands are folded in your lap, and you’re desperate for a release for your nervous energy. You want to tap your foot, drum your fingers against the seat, or fidget with your gloves... but you don’t want to leave a bad impression. Especially not now you’re alone with Trevor. Not _entirely_ alone, of course. There’s still other people around, quietly conversing as others dance the night away. The point is that Marcus has taken leave of both of you. Of _course_ he led you three somewhere quieter, and then announced that he needs the restroom.

“You’ve arrived rather late in the season, Lord Belmont,” you remark with a polite smile, attempting to make small talk.

Trevor returns the smile, but there’s not much happiness behind it. “I didn’t come to London to find a wife. I’m here to...” He pauses to find the right words. You notice his hand move over to the cross-guard of his sword, his thumb brushing over the crest etched into it. “I’m here to settle some family affairs. I merely came to the ball to say hello to some old friends while I’m in town.” His expression darkens as he looks away. “Though that hasn’t seemed to stop every mother from trying to marry off their daughters to me.”

Ah. He’s not looking for a wife. You’re a little relieved, but... also a little disappointed. Some part of you hoped that maybe you’d have a chance. You _have_ to find a husband one way or another, and you feel like Trevor would at least be one of the more pleasing options. Then again, it appears that nobody here has a chance. You carry on with the conversation and tell Trevor with a grin, “Yes, I’d noticed half the guests here were swarming you. The mamas this year appear to be more competitive than ever.”

“It certainly seems so,” he says with a dry snort. He looks at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. You feel your heart flutter. “You are looking for a husband, then?”

Your mouth goes dry, but you manage to answer his question with a small nod. “Yes, but I’m afraid my chances of finding one this season have become virtually non-existent,” you tell him, casting your eyes down. “Tonight will be the last ball I’m attending. I’ll... I’ll try my chances again next season.” You look up and put on a brave smile.

Trevor looks like he’s about to ask what happened, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “Well, if it’s the last ball for you, then we should try to make it memorable, don’t you think? Do you have a spot left on your dance card?”

“Yes,” you say, quicker than you would have liked. Fumbling a little, you take it out of the pocket of your dress and hand it to him. He looks at it, and you can tell he’s noticed how empty it is. He’s the first person all evening who’s even _wanted_ to dance with you. It’s almost mortifying, and you hope he doesn’t realise how everyone else sees you as _undesirable—_

“It seems I have the privilege of being the only one dancing with you tonight,” Trevor says, pulling you out of your train of thought. He returns the dance card to you, then gets up and offers you his hand. His smile is mischievous. “Let’s show those other Lords what they’ve been missing out on, hm?”

*

“So you’re sure you didn’t do anything scandalous?”

“God, Marcus, shut up!”

Your cousin laughs, clearly a little tipsy. He sighs and shakes his head, sinking further into his seat. The carriage window is open to let in some of the cool night air. You need it. You’ve been feeling awfully warm since dancing with Trevor. Marcus interrupts your daydreaming when he asks, “You really like him, don’t you?”

“Yes, just like every other lady at the ball, I have eyes,” you say, trying to deflect the question. It’s no use, though. You know that Marcus knows. You’ve never been very good at disguising the way you feel, always wearing your heart on your sleeve whether you wanted it or not.

Marcus groans. “Ugh. Those other ladies... He barely had room to breathe back there. Can’t believe that those mamas are still trying to shove their daughters onto him after everything that’s happened.”

You turn to look at Marcus. “What’s happened?”

He stares at you in disbelief. “Christ, cousin. Have you been so out of the loop? Do you even pay attention to people talking to you when you’ve got your nose in your books?”

Instantly your cheeks colour red. “Just tell me!”

Marcus suddenly looks stone cold sober. He sits upright and tells you, “Trevor’s entire family was murdered a few months ago. He’s the only survivor.”


	2. Attention

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The debutante of Carter house is suddenly flooded with attention from gentleman callers again. Marcus reflects on how he and Trevor played a role in this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I really spent NYE writing a new chapter......... ANYWAY, this chapter has a section that isn’t focussed entirely on the reader. I hope it makes the world feel a little more alive!

You’re rudely woken from your pleasant dreams by Prudence and Grace. Your younger cousins have jumped onto your bed, one on each side, and are loudly demanding you get up this instant. Rubbing your eyes, you stifle a yawn and sit up. “What is it?”

“There’s gentleman callers here for you!” Prudence says, barely able to contain her excitement. “Lots and lots of them, with lots and lots of gifts!” Grace adds, jumping up and down.

You stare at the two of them in disbelief. “For... for me?”

“For who else, silly?” the twins say, hooking their arms into yours and pulling you further upright. “You need to get dressed! Right now! They’re all waiting downstairs!”

Flora, your handmaid, helps you get dressed after Prudence and Grace run back downstairs to spy on the guests. She looks just as excited as the twins, maybe even more so. “I’ve seen some of them, miss. They brought flowers, sweets, and I saw some even brought jewellery!” She carefully buttons the back of your dress while you hold your hair out of the way.

“I don’t understand. Just a few days ago, nobody wanted to even come near me anymore.”

“Well, did something happen at your last social event?”

You think as Flora sits you down by your vanity and begins pinning up your hair for you. The only noteworthy thing that happened was meeting Trevor... and dancing with him, of course. You gasp and look up at Flora through the reflection of the mirror. “That’s got to be it, right? I danced with Lord Belmont at last week’s ball. He’s... Well, he’s the most sought-after bachelor in town right now.” Your cheeks feel warm, but you’re trying to keep your tone as neutral as possible. “I suppose him dancing with me made the other Lords rethink their opinions.”

A squeal escapes Flora. “Oh, I’m so happy for you, miss! Maybe Lord Belmont will visit today as well? If he does, I’m sure he’ll be stunned by how beautiful you look.”

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you straighten your back and keep your chin up. You don’t have the heart to tell Flora that he likely won’t be coming.

*

Aunt Sophia closes the doors to the drawing room after the last of them has left. Then she turns around, absolutely beaming at you. “Darling, did you see the way they looked at you? They adore you! And isn’t it delightful to hear they believe _you_ now instead of that...” She clears her throat before she says any rude words, then continues. “I’m sure many of them will be back tomorrow.” Aunt Sophia walks over to you and takes your hands in hers. There’s a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Now I know you said last week’s ball would be your last...”

You raise your brows.

“Oh, don’t give me that look! Marcus said you had lots of fun. Right, Marcus?” Aunt Sophia turns to look at her son. He’s seated in an armchair, and looks up from the paper he’s reading when his mother mentions his name. He grins wickedly when he says, “Absolutely. Especially when she danced with Lord Belmont, I think.”

With a loud groan you roll your eyes at your cousin betraying you like this. Aunt Sophia chastises you, saying, “Don’t do that! It’s unbecoming and very unladylike.” Then she pauses and gives you a sly look. “You didn’t tell me you danced with Lord Belmont?”

Your hands slip out of hers and you walk to the window to look outside... but mostly to look away. “I didn’t think it would be important.”

“Do you fancy him?”

“ _Auntie_!” you cry out when you turn around to give her an embarrassed, disapproving look.

Prudence and Grace burst out in a fit of giggles, and aunt Sophia gives you a knowing smile. She walks over and tells you, “If you fancy him, I’m sure your cousin can work something out with him. They are old friends, after all. I think you two would make a fine match.”

You shake your head. “I _don’t_ fancy him. Besides, even if I did, I don’t think Marcus will be able to “work something out”, auntie.” Before Marcus can protest you quickly continue, “Not because I doubt Marcus’ silver tongue, but because Lord Belmont isn’t looking to marry. He told me so himself.” You shrug it off as casually as you can. “On top of that, he finds it annoying that seemingly all the mamas in London are trying to marry off their daughters to him. So lets not add ourselves to that list, hm?”

Marcus sighs, folding the paper and putting it away. “I hate to admit it, but she’s right. Do I think Belmont would make a fine husband for her? Yes, but not right now. He’s... He needs time to grieve his losses.” He looks at you apologetically. “Of course I want the best for you, cousin, but he’s also my friend. I need to think of that too. Surely you understand?”

“Of course I do,” you say, keeping your chin up. “Unlike Lord Galway, I understand the meaning of boundaries.”

“Oh let’s not use the name of that terrible man here in our household,” aunt Sophia mutters. She then continues speaking with a normal volume. Her smile has returned to her face. “Back to the matter at hand! It appears your time on the marriage market isn’t done yet, dear. Now, I know you promised yesterday’s ball would be your last, but there’s this luncheon on Friday...”

You sigh.

Marcus watches as his mother busies herself with you, trying to convince you to join her to the luncheon (and succeeding). A thoughtful smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Yes, the gentlemen of London finally heard the truth of what had happened between you and Lord Galway. However... it wasn’t because of Trevor dancing with you. Sure, Trevor was involved, but Marcus pitched in a little too.

*

Earlier this week, after the ball, but before the day you suddenly found yourself surrounded by admirers again, Trevor found himself at a gentleman’s club. Generally he hates being at these places, but Marcus insisted they go out for a drink together. The smoke of cigars hangs in the air, making the atmosphere within the club rather gloomy. Still, that doesn’t seem to impede the mood of the other patrons, who quietly converse and laugh while indulging in gambling, cigars, and alcohol.

“Will you be returning to the country estate?” Marcus asks Trevor before lifting his glass of brandy to take a sip.

“I don’t know,” Trevor responds in full honesty. He stares at the end table between their two armchairs. He’s holding his fourth glass of whisky. “It’ll be strange, being home without any of my family members around.”

Marcus gives him an apologetic look. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I’m sorry—”

“No, no. It’s alright.” Trevor’s voice is a little hoarse. He swallows hard and then says, “It’s been, what... three months?” His brows are furrowed, and he still can’t meet Marcus’ eyes. Truth to be told, it still hurts like all Hell.

Taking a deep breath, Marcus thinks about what to say to him... but really, what _can_ you say to someone who just lost his entire family? Trevor is an old friend, but even Marcus is at a loss here. He sets down his glass on the table and says, “Look... I know you don’t like to talk about it when something’s bothering you—” “Damn right.” Marcus snorts dryly before continuing, “What I’m trying to say is, don’t hesitate to drop by our home. It’s better than drinking yourself to death.”

“I’ll consider your offer.” Trevor finishes his glass of whisky in one go.

Marcus drums his fingers on the armrest. “Did the investigation ever turn up something _useful_?”

Trevor shakes his head, putting away the glass. “No. Nothing. Everything’s been inconclusive.” Of course it turned out inconclusive, Trevor thinks. The perpetrators were something the normal, human constabulary could never hope to catch or arrest. He brings an end to the subject by saying, “Let’s talk about something else.”

The two old friends spend a little more time catching up and bringing each other up to speed about their own lives. Eventually, you’re the subject of conversation.

“Your cousin mentioned she’s looking for a husband, but she thinks she won’t be able to find one,” Trevor says. In all honesty, it was something that had been on his mind since the ball. “What did she mean by that? Did something happen?”

Marcus sinks a little further into his armchair with a sigh. “Yes. You see Galway over there?” He nods to the laughing man in question with a disgusted look. His left eye is still purple from the right hook you landed. “He was the first to propose to her after just a week of trying to get her attention. She turned him down — might I add _respectfully_ , I was there — but he didn’t take it well. He tried to force himself onto her during a soirée when he caught her alone.” Marcus clenches his fists, feeling anger bubble up in him again. “She fought him off, just as she should have, but nobody had seen what had happened. It was her word against his. He went about slandering her name, saying she got violent after _she_ tried to force herself onto _him_.”

Trevor stares at Cornelius Galway. “I see.” He pats Marcus on the shoulder. “Come on. We should _talk_ to him, don’t you think?”

No less than five minutes later, Lord Galway is lying on the ground of the restroom, beaten and bruised. Marcus pulls him up by his greasy hair and hisses to him, “Now listen carefully. You’re going to take back everything you said about my cousin. You go out there, to the other lords, and tell them exactly what happened. The _whole_ truth. Because you and I both know that what you’ve been telling people is a _lie_. Lying is a sin, Galway. You know that right? Now either you go out there and clear up this _misunderstanding_ , or Belmont and I will pay you a visit again.” He shakes him roughly and asks through gritted teeth, “Do you understand, Galway?”

Cornelius whimpers, eyes screwed shut in fear.

“Answer him,” Trevor demands, looking at the pitiful man with his arms crossed.

“I understand! I understand! I’m sorry, truly!”

Marcus releases him, and Cornelius falls back to the tiled floor with a thud. He curls up and sobs, but neither Marcus nor Trevor have a single grain of sympathy for him. The door opens and another gentleman is about to walk into the restroom, but freezes when he sees the scene laid out in front of him.

Trevor grins lazily. “Just having some friendly conversation. Nothing to see here.”

*

Marcus grins to himself. He thinks he and Trevor did a pretty fine job, clearing up this “misunderstanding” with Galway. Not that you would ever need to know what happened. You have more important things on your mind, such as Friday’s luncheon.

He picks up the paper and continues reading.


	3. Pink Lemonade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Carters and their debutante head to the luncheon as a family. There, the debutante is approached by one of her admirers. Meanwhile, Trevor has to deal with yet another pushy parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I don’t even know when lemonade was invented, but I think pink lemonade is really cute. Enjoy, you funky people!!

You fan yourself. Not to catch the attention of any lords present. God knows you’ve had your fill of that these past days. You fan yourself simply because it’s rather hot outside today. Occasionally you unintentionally make eye contact with one of the lords who have visited Carter House, and you force a charming smile. How you wish you could be the same age as Prudence and Grace again. The twins are running about the luncheon without a worry on their minds. You spot them stuffing pastries into the pockets of their dresses, then sneaking away to eat them elsewhere. It’ll be years before they’ll have to make their debut.

“Is something the matter, dear?” aunt Sophia asks you, putting a hand on your arm. “You haven’t touched any of the food yet. Are you feeling unwell?”

“Don’t worry about me, auntie,” you tell her with a reassuring smile, still fanning yourself. You feel sweat droplets form on the skin of your neck. “I simply don’t have much of an appetite yet. I think it’s the heat, it’s getting to me.” You close your fan and look around. “I shall go look for something cold to drink.”

Aunt Sophia nods. The fine lines on her face crease with worry. “Very well. If you wish to retire early, we can do so. Just say the word.”

You take her hands in your own and give them a squeeze. “I know. Thank you, auntie.”

Parting from aunt Sophia, you make your way to find some refreshments. You can walk through crowds again without being stared at and whispered about. In fact, earlier some ladies had even come to you to apologise for their previous behaviour. Though you’d wished they had just believed you _before_ Galway confessed, it made you happy enough to hear them express their apologies.

Looking at the selection of cold drinks, you’re not sure what to pick. Something sweet could help stimulate your appetite a little, but something sour would be much more refreshing. While trying to make a decision, you hear somebody call out your name.

One of the lords approaches you. While you smile at him and curtsy, you try your best to remember what his name was. You vaguely remember he’d visited Carter House on multiple occasions, but he never left much of an impression. It’s on the tip of your tongue. Just after you stand up straight again to meet his eyes, you remember. “Lord Burke, it’s good to see you here.”

“It’s good to see you, too.” Jonathan Burke’s smile is small and rather shy. It fits him, you think. This is the first time you’ve really gotten a closer look at him, without a dozen other gentlemen trying to grab your attention. He’s quite handsome actually. You find yourself liking his blonde curls and kind, brown eyes. His quiet voice pulls you out of your thoughts. “Were you getting something to drink?”

“Yes, I was. Something cold, preferably. You have no idea how warm it can get in these dresses,” you say, bringing up a hand to touch the back of your neck. Oh no. Sweat. Not very charming. You try to covertly wipe it off on your dress.

Jonathan doesn’t seem to notice, or doesn’t seem to care. “I can only imagine. Please, allow me.” He picks up an empty glass, then gestures at the drinks. “Which would you like?”

Finally you make a decision. “The pink lemonade, please.”

After Jonathan hands you your drink with a smile, he asks, “Would you like to walk together? We can take a look at what other kind of refreshments there are...”

For a moment you’re distracted. Behind Jonathan, a little further away, you see Trevor. He’s talking to someone. Odessa is her name, you think. She’s really pretty. Her dark hair is pinned up in a more extravagant way than other ladies present. However, by far the most charming things about her are her green eyes, her smile, and the way she can make anybody feel like the centre of the world just by talking to them. You feel a twinge of jealousy, but you’re quick to ignore it. You’re happy for them. Really. They’d make a good match, you think. If anybody can make Trevor change his mind about marriage, it’ll be her.

Trevor looks at you. You smile at him and he smiles back, but Odessa puts a hand on his arm and pulls his attention back to her.

You look at Jonathan. He’s waiting patiently for your answer. You link your arm with his and tell him, “I’d love to.”

*

You bite into a sandwich. It’s small, cut into a triangle. With another bite it’s finished. Jonathan smiles and asks, “Is it good?”

Quickly you cover your mouth with your hand as you chew faster, not wanting to speak when there’s still food in your mouth. You lift a finger to let him know you’re going to reply eventually, which elicits a chuckle from him. “My apologies, I should have waited for you to finish eating.”

“No, no, it’s quite alright,” you say and laugh when you’ve finished. “But to answer your question, yes. It is good.”

He offers his arm and you take it, and so you continue strolling past the various little snacks on display. Occasionally you stop to try something, talking and laughing together. You find yourself genuinely enjoying Jonathan’s company. If he hadn’t approached you directly here, you don’t think you would have ever noticed him among the crowd of your admirers.

“Tell me, Lord Burke,” you begin. “What do you do for fun?”

Jonathan blinks with a puzzled smile. “For fun?”

“Yes, for fun. I find that what a person does in their free time says more about them than their profession,” you tell him, looking up at him with a big smile.

He hums. “Well, I suppose you’re right. I enjoy painting, when I have the time for it.”

Your face lights up. “You’re an artist, then?”

Jonathan’s cheeks flush pink. “Oh, no, I wouldn’t go so far as to say that...”

“No need to be so humble,” you tell him, giving his arm a light squeeze. “What subjects do you like to paint?” You continue your conversation with Jonathan, and he tells you more about himself. He’s a delight to talk to, soft-spoken and unlike any of the other gentlemen who have spoken with you alone. He listens attentively to you and lets you lead the conversation, but doesn’t hesitate to offer his own input.

Of course, you need to marry some day so you will be provided for, but you think that you could be quite happy if you were Jonathan’s wife.

*

Trevor watches you, your arm linked with Jonathan’s. He looks at the way you smile, the way you laugh, and the way you look completely enamoured by Jonathan. He knows Odessa is talking to him, but he can’t focus on the conversation.

Odessa isn’t blind. Of course she notices this. “She’s pretty, don’t you think?”

His eyes flit back to Odessa, who returns the look with raised brows and a smile. She giggles at Trevor’s dumbfounded expression and points out, “You’ve been stealing glances at her for the past five minutes.”

Trevor clears his throat, looking away. “My apologies.”

She waves it off. “There’s no need to apologise.” A thoughtful look crosses her face while Odessa chews on her bottom lip. She hesitates first, but then she begins, “Lord Belmont, I must ask—”

Odessa is interrupted.

“Belmont! I see you’ve already met my lovely daughter,” Lord Gustav Buckman says, putting an arm around his daughter’s shoulders. Odessa forces a smile. Her father continues, “She’s not only beautiful, but also an intelligent and well-read young lady. Not to mention her skill on the pianoforte, and her embroidery work—”

“I think Lord Belmont has heard quite enough, father,” Odessa says, still wearing the forced smile. “Those are hardly accomplishments worth mentioning, virtually every lady knows how to play the pianoforte or embroider.”

Gustav scoffs, shaking his head. “Nonsense, my dear! They may know how to play, but none of them can hold a candle to your skill.”

Odessa lets out an exasperated sigh, then looks away and says, “Oh! I think mother needs me. Please excuse me.” She curtsies, then walks away with a quick pace. Trevor watches her leave with an empathetic look on his face.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she? Just like her mother,” Gustav says with a proud chuckle.

Trevor looks at him and forces a polite smile. He really wishes he were anywhere but here right now. “She certainly is.”

Gustav hums approvingly, stroking his beard in thought. “Now I heard the strangest rumour recently, Lord Belmont. I heard that you’ve no intentions of finding a wife.” He looks at Trevor pointedly with raised brows. “Tell me it’s not true. A young, unmarried lord such as yourself, the new head of your family...” Gustav gestures vaguely as he continues talking. “It’s a tragedy, what happened, of course, but surely you should be thinking about marriage more than ever now! _I_ think you should find a wife, and sire an heir as soon as possible.”

Trevor thinks Gustav should shut up. Sadly, that’s not something he can tell him outright. Not here, anyway. “I’m afraid I must disappoint you, Lord Buckman. It’s true, I’m not currently looking to marry.”

“You perplex me, Lord Belmont,” Gustav says, shaking his head. “Surely you must have changed your mind at least a little after meeting my charming Odessa?”

“As charming as she may be, I’ve already made up my mind on the matter,” Trevor says, glancing to the side to find someone who could save him from this conversation. He spots an acquaintance. Before Gustav can say anything more Trevor quickly tells him, “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Lord Buckman. You must excuse me, I have to catch up with an old friend.”

Gustav frowns as he watches the young lord take his leave. His expression is dark and displeased. This isn’t going the way he wants it to. He’ll have to pull some strings. He’ll see his daughter married to Belmont before the end of the season, one way or another.


	4. Sitting Ducks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The debutante joins Marcus and Trevor on a little hunting outing. There, she shares a rather intimate moment with Trevor. Jonathan visits Carter House again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :^) I’ve updated the rating to Explicit :^) for smut reasons :^) which will be here :^) soon :^)
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Most people wouldn’t consider hunting a very ladylike activity. However, aunt Sophia insisted you join your cousin and Trevor on their little outing. Neither you nor Marcus got any say in the matter. She’s of the opinion that it’s also beneficial for ladies to be a good shot with a gun. When you asked her how she’d know something like that, she just gave you a knowing smile and walked away.

The three of you are in the carriage to your destination, making small-talk. Marcus is seated next to you, and Trevor opposite you. Your heart fluters whenever Trevor smiles at you. You can't help but wonder what he was talking about with Odessa. You can't help but wonder if he's changed his mind about looking for a wife. Of course, all you can do is wonder. The last thing you want to do is overstep any boundaries. You'll be happy for him and respect his choices, no matter what happens. Besides, you and Jonathan are starting to get close. He's visiting almost every day now, and you've even talked about what you want your futures to look like. It would be foolish to put all of that in jeopardy for your infatuation with Trevor.

Still, you'd be lying if you said you don't love the attention you get from him.

Marcus and Trevor are talking about the guns they've brought along for the outing. The subject reminds you of something you wanted to ask a while ago. Glancing at his hip, you see that he still carries the sword with him. You lean forward and say, "Lord Belmont, if I may ask you something. I've noticed you always carry that sword with you. Why is that?" You offer a playful smile and joke, "Are you trying to stay prepared in case somebody attacks you?"

"Yes, it's to fight of people who ask too many questions," he jokes back, grinning. He pulls the sword from the sheath just a few centimetres to show a part of the blade. It gleams in the sunlight filtering in through the carriage window. He wears a bittersweet smile. "It's a family heirloom of sorts. It's a... tradition within my family to carry a sword with us wherever we go."

You fall silent for a moment as you think of what to say. Even Marcus doesn't have any jokes or teasing remarks he wants to make. After Trevor sheathes the weapon again, you smile sympathetically and tell him, "I think it's admirable that you're carrying on the tradition, Lord Belmont."

Trevor's smile is bashful when he thanks you. Oh if only you knew, he thinks.

*

The sounds of the gunshot rings through the air and shortly after, Marcus lets out a triumphant laugh. He managed to hit a duck that was flying away. “Look at that, cousin. Do you think you can do that?”

You adjust the strap of the heavy rifle on your shoulder. It’s starting to get sore, and you haven’t even had the chance to shoot anything yet. With a deadpan look you respond to Marcus. “What do you think?”

“Maybe a more important question is, can you fetch that duck?” Trevor asks Marcus with a sly smile. “It’s just the three of us here today, and you didn’t think to bring any hounds.” Your cousin turns to look at the marshy area the duck was flying above. The bird likely fell somewhere between the reeds, so it’s well-camouflaged too. Marcus groans, and after slinging his rifle over his shoulder, he’s on his way to try to find it while muttering something about him not being a retrieving dog.

This leaves you and Trevor alone again. The two of you watch your cousin struggle to navigate his way through the mud.

“Next time we should remind him to bring a dog.”

Next time. You try to ignore the way the words tug at your heartstrings. “Perhaps we should, but it’s so much more amusing to see him struggle like this, don’t you think?” you respond with a mischievous grin.

“Hm, that’s certainly true. I’ll reconsider.” The two of you share a laugh, then Trevor looks at you and smiles. You return the smile, feeling like you’re completely unable to do anything else when he’s looking at you like that. He asks you, “Have you done much shooting?”

You clear your throat and shake your head, turning to watch Marcus again. He’s pushing aside reeds, looking for the duck, but his endeavour is still proving to be unsuccessful. “No, my parents weren’t as liberal in their views as aunt Sophia is. They wouldn’t allow me anywhere near firearms. I only started shooting after I moved into Carter House.” You smile sheepishly. “I’m not even sure if I’ll be able to hit anything today.” Taking the rifle from your shoulder, you hold it the way you _think_ you should hold it. Admittedly, you’re not entirely sure if it’s completely correct, but you feel like you’re close enough. You lift it up to take aim. It’s not loaded yet, so you’re not worried about messing around a little. “Bang,” you say when you pretend to shoot a rather fat pigeon up in a tree.

“Look,” Trevor says, walking over to stand behind you, “You should hold it like this.”

You can barely breathe. His chest is pressed to your back, and his calloused hands move across your arms to reposition the way you hold the rifle. For a moment you wonder what he did for his hands to get so rough, but then your own hands start to feel clammy. From this close you can get a faint whiff of his cologne, and you know you won’t forget its distinct, intoxicating smell anytime soon. His right hand moves over yours, guiding your index finger to the trigger.

“And then you aim... and shoot,” he says softly, almost _murmurs_ it, his words and breath feeling hot against your ear.

Your swallow hard.

“I GOT IT!”

The pigeon flies away when Marcus yells. Trevor takes a step away from you, and almost immediately you miss the warmth of having him so close. You lower your rifle, unable to look at him. Marcus comes jogging over, victoriously holding up the duck by its neck. Both him and the duck are covered in mud. Out of breath he repeats, “I got it!”

“You’ll have to clean it thoroughly before anyone wants to eat that,” Trevor points out with a grin. “Maybe clean yourself thoroughly too while you’re at it.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut your mouth, at least I shot something today,” Marcus says, pointing at Trevor with the duck. He pauses and looks at you. “You okay, cousin?”

You adjust your grip on the rifle and look up with a smile. “Yes. I’m perfectly fine.”

*

Seated on the chaise longue, you stare at the ceiling as you wait. Your book lies forgotten next to you on the chair. Jonathan will be visiting again today, but it's not him you're thinking about. You can't get the feeling of Trevor's body pressed against yours out of your head. Chewing on your bottom lip, you keep thinking about his hands on you and the smell of his cologne. Why does your heart desire something you can't have? Why can't you just be happy with Jonathan?

“Lord Jonathan Burke is here, ma’am.”

Aunt Sophia practically jumps from her seat. “Oh! Send him in!” She turns around and looks at you excitedly, then quickly composes herself to receive your guest. You rise to your feet as well, feeling guilty.

The door to the drawing room opens, and Jonathan walks in. He’s smiling as he greets both you and aunt Sophia. You gasp when you realise that he’s holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers. You told him during the luncheon, and he remembered. This is the first real, personal gift you’ve received from any of your gentleman callers. You're happy, but the guilt only grows in your chest. How can you sit about, daydreaming about another man when Jonathan is right there? When he clearly intends to marry you someday?

“These are for you,” he tells you, walking over.

Graciously you accept the gift, pressing it to your chest. “I love it,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “Thank you so much.”

Jonathan bows a little. “It’s my pleasure.”

Unsurprisingly, after not even five minutes aunt Sophia pretends to have to check on something and takes her leave of the two of you. It takes a moment, but eventually you've forgotten all about Trevor and you're talking and laughing with Jonathan. He genuinely makes you happy, and makes you smile. “I’ve brought something with me, actually,” he tells you. He slips a sketchbook and piece of charcoal from his pocket. Immediately you sit up a little more straight, then give him a quizzical look. He smiles bashfully. “May I draw you?”

At first you’re not sure how to respond. However, eventually a smile blooms on your face and you nod. “Yes, you may.”

Jonathan begins sketching. You watch him work, carefully putting down the lines to the paper in order to capture your likeness. His brows are furrowed in concentration, but every time he looks up to take a good look at your face, his expression softens and he smiles. It makes your heart flutter.

Yet somehow Trevor manages to creep back into your mind. You're undeniably attracted to him. You know that you can’t be with him, no matter how much you would love to. That’s just life, isn’t it? Eventually Jonathan will propose to you, and you’ll be married to him. When there is truly no way for you to be with Trevor anymore, hopefully your heart will ache less and eventually you can forget him.

Jonathan shows you the finished sketch. “Do you like it?” he asks quietly, seeking your approval.

You beam at him. “I love it.”


	5. Matters of the Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor feels miserable. He’s dragged along to the Carters for dinner, but it ends up making him feel worse. The next day, Sophia asks her niece a question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there party people!! I’m still changing up the tags now and then because I’m indecisive as hell. Be warned, Trevor is suffering from Big Sad (and alcohol abuse) in this chapter, so maybe skip this chapter if you’re not chill with that kind of content. We’ll return to our scheduled mutual pining and wholesomeness in the next chapter...... or not >:)

Trevor is alone.

He’d given the servants a day off. In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t a good idea. Now he’ll have to clean up the bottles and broken glass by himself. Then again, he’s the one who decided to make this mess. It wouldn’t feel right if somebody else had to deal with it for him.

Lying on his back on the sofa, he lifts the bottle of bourbon he’s been drinking from. He squints as he tries to see how much is left in it. All the curtains are shut. There’s no need for busybodies on the street to see what he’s doing at 3 PM. After turning the bottle upside down, only one drop falls out and onto his shirt. He lowers his hand and lets the bottle roll onto the floor. It makes a loud noise on the hardwood, then comes to a halt when it bumps into an empty wine bottle.

Trevor vaguely realises that he’s going to feel even worse later.

Not that he really cares right now. He rests his left forearm over his eyes to block out the light that still manages to creep in between the curtains. He’s felt nothing but misery and loneliness since the incident that turned him into the last living Belmont. Sometimes he wishes that he’d died that night too. He dreads the idea of having to return to the estate all by himself. There’s nobody there, save for the handful of new staff he hired to take care of it in his absence... but his family is all gone. To think that it used to be such a lively place.

Staying in the city home was at least tolerable. It’s much smaller, of course, and his friends are nearby. Especially Marcus has helped Trevor more than he might think, forcing him to go outside and to social events even if he doesn’t want to.

And then, of course, there’s you.

You were the last thing he expected to find when coming to London. He vaguely remembers Marcus speaking about you a long time ago, when they were at university. He had told Trevor that his aunt and uncle had passed away, so his younger cousin would be moving in with them. Trevor had offered his condolences. Then he thought nothing more of it. When he finally met you at the ball he immediately knew he was in danger. He never expected to end up so... infatuated. Being around you made the burden of his grief a little more tolerable. Being around you made life a little easier, and a little more colourful. Would it be too late in the season to begin courting you?

He groans. Of course it’s too late. There’s a whole crowd of lords who want your hand in marriage. What does he have to offer that they don’t have? He’s a grieving, broken man with an empty home. You deserve all the happiness and marital bliss in the world, and shouldn’t spend your days trying to fix your husband.

You’re better off with somebody else. Anybody but him, really.

Trevor’s mind has become a downward spiral of self-loathing. If it were up to him, he’d drink himself to death here today. Thankfully, the decision is not up to him. Feeling disoriented and a little nauseous, Trevor sits up when he hears a loud banging on his front door.

When he finally opens the door, Marcus looks him up and down. “Good God, Trevor.” Quickly Marcus pushes past him into the Belmont home, then closes the door behind him. No need for prying eyes to see Trevor’s dishevelled state. Marcus stares at him. “You look like death.” He pauses, and sniffs before making a disgusted face. “Smell like it, too.”

Trevor rubs the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache slowly form. He’s not sure if it’s because of the alcohol or because of his friend. “What do you want, Marcus?”

“I was in the area, so I came to check on you. Good thing I did.” He gestures at the state of the drawing room where Trevor has been drinking. “Really? Did I not tell you that you could always visit our house if you needed it?”

“I don’t need it.”

“You clearly do.”

Trevor crosses his arms and looks away. He mumbles, “I don’t want to be a bother.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Get over yourself, man! I’ll take care of the mess, go sober up and make yourself presentable. _You_ are coming with me.”

*

You didn’t exactly expect to see Trevor here today. You especially didn’t expect that he’d be sitting next to you during dinner. Earlier today Marcus had shown up with Trevor, and announced that he’d be joining your family for dinner. You noticed there was something off about Trevor. However, you didn’t want to ask him about it with everyone around... even if you had your suspicions about what could have happened. So you didn’t.

The table is decked out lavishly, to the point that you could want for nothing. Aunt Sophia, being quite the gourmet, took Trevor’s visiting as an excuse to have even more food made. She smiles and asks him, “I hope everything is to your liking, Lord Belmont?”

“Yes, very much so. Thank you for hosting me on such short notice, Lady Carter,” Trevor says, returning the smile.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. You are always welcome here, don’t you forget that.” Aunt Sophia gestures at the bottle one of the servants is holding. “Would you like some wine?”

You don’t miss the look Marcus is giving Trevor from across the table. Neither does Trevor. He shakes his head. “No, thank you.”

Aunt Sophia gestures at the servant to put away the bottle. Then dinner proceeds as it always does. You occasionally steal glances at Trevor, wondering what happened. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, and isn’t as quick to respond to your jokes as he usually is. Maybe you’ll ask later in private, you think. You’re worried about him. Even if you feel the way you do for Trevor, you consider him a friend first and foremost.

When Grace asks for the salt, you react without thinking, still lost in thought. Your hand bumps into Trevor’s as you both reach for the salt shaker. “Sorry,” you both mumble at the same time. You look at him and can’t help but grin. He returns the smile, looking a little less exhausted than before. Your heart melts, and for a moment you’ve forgotten all about—

“ _Hellooo_? The salt, please?”

You look away and quickly hand the salt shaker to Grace. She snatches it from your hand and huffs a “thank you”.

When you look at Trevor from the corner of your eye again, you see that he’s turned his attention back to his plate. You hope nobody noticed that exchange between the two of you.

Dessert has always meant everyone catching up with each other, including Prudence and Grace sharing what they’ve been up to today. Marcus and aunt Sophia talk a little about politics, with both you and Trevor occasionally pitching in their opinions. There’s small talk about the weather, and speculations about the upcoming social events within the ton. This, of course, leads to aunt Sophia talking about the subject you’d hoped to avoid tonight.

“Has my niece mentioned how her first season on the marriage market is going?” aunt Sophia asks Trevor with an excited look on her face. You feel a sense of dread.

Trevor raises his brows and looks at you with a smile. “No, I do not think she has.” You return the smile, but it probably doesn’t look very charming or happy. This is the last thing you want to talk about with Trevor.

“If everything goes well, it will be her first season... and her last! Surely you are familiar with Lord Jonathan Burke? He has been courting her for the past few weeks, and they are just _so_ smitten with each other. Aren’t you, dear?” Aunt Sophia looks at you expectantly.

Trevor looks at you too, but you find his expression hard to read. So you just smile and nod. “Yes, absolutely. Lord Burke is... is... Well, he’s amazing, really. He’s such a kind and caring soul. The model gentleman, if you ask me. He’s always attentive to my wants and needs, and he brings me the loveliest gifts.” Your mouth feels dry. You continue, “We have much in common, too! We’re both avid readers, for example. Though his collection of books is far more impressive than mine. And he’s an artist, might I add.” Some part of you feels like you’re not listing Jonathan’s virtues for the others, but for yourself.

You never would be able to tell how he feels from the smile on Trevor’s face, and that’s exactly how he wants to keep it. “He sounds like a wonderful match for you. I’m happy for you.”

“Isn’t my niece lucky, marrying for love?” aunt Sophia says, beaming at you. “If you ask me, _I_ think there’s a proposal on the horizon.”

I hate my life, Trevor thinks.

*

“Knock knock! It’s me!”

“Come in, auntie!”

Aunt Sophia practically kicks in the door to your room. Flora is carrying several colourful boxes, and immediately you know where they’re from and what they contain. You get up from your reading spot. “New dresses?”

While Flora puts down the boxes on your bed and opens them for you, aunt Sophia claps excitedly. “Correct! If Lord Burke truly is to propose to you soon, you need to look _perfect_. The moment should be one you look back on with nothing but pure joy. There should not be a single worry on your mind about how you look. Now I’ve had a couple made in different styles and colours, but they should all look very flattering on you.”

The dresses _do_ look very nice. You pick one up and hold it to your body in front of the mirror. Aunt Sophia is right, it will definitely look flattering on you. Is this the dress you will be wearing when you get engaged? You smooth out the silky fabric, and can’t help but wonder if Trevor would like the way you’d look in this.

You don’t notice aunt Sophia dismissing Flora while you’re admiring yourself in the mirror, lost in thought. She sits down on your bed and says, “Actually, my dear... There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

Putting away the dress you’re holding, you walk over to sit down next to her. “What is it, auntie?”

“It’s something I have asked you before, actually.” She smiles. “Do you fancy him?”

You blink. “I... I don’t think I understand...”

“Oh, don’t play pretend! I’ve seen the way you and Lord Belmont look at each other, especially during last night’s supper.” You feel your face turn red and are about to protest, but your aunt shushes you. Her smile turns a little bittersweet. “My dear, the way you look at Lord Belmont is exactly the way I used to look at your uncle.”

Your chest tightens. Chewing on your bottom lip, you think about all the moments you’ve shared with Jonathan, and the all the moments you’ve shared with Trevor. Truth to be told, you like them both. Just in different ways. You know in your heart that Jonathan will make you happy, and if given the right amount of time you’ll fall head over heels in love with him. Yet somehow you can’t get Trevor out of your head. You find himself gravitating towards him whenever you’re together. He makes you laugh, and though you consider him a friend, you feel like there’s still so much more to discover about him.

“I... It’s true, I do fancy him,” you admit out loud. It almost feels cathartic. “A lot, actually. But Lord Burke and I are already so close, and I like him too.” You sigh, looking up at the ceiling as your shoulders slump. “Maybe it is because I know Lord Belmont does not intend to marry, that I find myself so attracted to him?” You shrug and then grin. “Is it not thrilling to want that which you cannot have?”

“So Lord Belmont is your forbidden fruit?” aunt Sophia asks, returning the grin.

Immediately you both burst out in a fit of giggles. You can’t help but blush. “God, don’t say it like that!”

“Is it not the truth?” Aunt Sophia giggles. When your laughter dies down, she takes your hands in hers and smiles. “My dear, I know I bought you these dresses in case there will be a proposal, but... I want you to know that it is _alright_ if you need more time to think. Lord Burke is a patient man, and I’m sure he’s more than willing to wait for you to sort out your feelings. You are still young, and unexperienced in the matters of the heart. If things do not work out, there’s always next season,” she gestures at the boxes, “and these will simply be beautiful new dresses for you.”


	6. Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gustav Buckman sets his plans into motion. Jonathan and Trevor finally meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :^) greetings :^) everything is slowly coming together :^) next chapter is smut :^) enjoy :^)

Lord Gustav Buckman likes to think that he is a patient man. A resourceful one, too. Now his patience has happened to run out, he can turn to his resourcefulness. He’ll do anything for the sake of his family. Anything.

This includes making others lords talk. Not that it is a very difficult thing to do. If there’s one thing that lords like to do, it’s talk.

“If I had not heard it from yourself, Lord Galway, I never would have believed Belmont and Carter to be capable of such vile acts,” Gustav says to Cornelius. He takes a drag from his cigar, keeping a close eye on their surroundings. He’s not an idiot. He knows that the two of them have been known to frequent the club, especially Marcus. The longer Gustav can keep this under wraps, the better.

Cornelius nods with wide, nervous eyes. Gustav thinks he looks pathetic, but Lord Galway doesn’t need to know that. The younger lord says, “They’re brutes, the two of them. Savages, even. I’m sure all of the Belmonts were. Well, good riddance that they’re all dead, if you ask me.”

Gustav raises his brows. Of course, the Belmont massacre. The event that caused Trevor Belmont to inherit the Belmont estate, and an enormous amount of money. The event which is still shrouded in mystery, as no killers have been caught. Not a single suspect has been listed in the papers. Cornelius has proven to be useful yet. He’s given Gustav an idea. He smiles. “Good riddance indeed.”

He’ll have to make some inquiries with the constabulary.

*

You’re wearing one of your new dresses.

Jonathan told you earlier how much he loves the colour on you. You had a feeling he would like it, which is exactly why you put on this dress in the first place. Aunt Sophia mentioning there could be a proposal on the horizon makes you a little nervous. Of course, rationally you know that Jonathan wouldn’t propose to you without asking for the blessing of your cousin and your aunt first, but you’re still on your toes. He’s been courting you for weeks, and the end of the season is drawing near. Any day now and you’ll be an engaged woman... and then after the engagement, you’ll be a wife.

It’s a nice day for a change, a rare sight in the normally rainy London. You’re not the only ones who had the idea to go promenading today. You see families walk together, the children running around while their parents try to keep up. You see old friends gossiping and laughing together as they talk about the latest scandals in the ton. You see young couples, smiling at each other as they push a pram together. Aunt Sophia insisted that this is good. The more people see you and Jonathan in public, the better. You’re not entirely sure why. At this point, you’ve learned not to question it. After all, you have a saying in your family. “God works in mysterious ways, and so does Sophia.”

You look up at Jonathan with a smile. You’re holding his arm, which recently you’ve found out to be stronger than you had initially expected. He can pick you up with relative ease if he wants to. Jonathan returns the smile, but looks a little confused. “Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”

“No,” you say and giggle, brushing a stray blonde curl from his forehead. “I’m just admiring you.”

Jonathan takes the hand you just gently touched his face with, and brings it to his lips. He kisses your knuckles, then gives the hand a light squeeze. “You’re the one who deserves the admiration, not me.”

Your heart flutters, and you’re at a loss for words.

Then you spot aunt Sophia from the corner of your eye. She’s here to chaperone, and Jonathan’s mother is here with her to keep her company. They’re walking a little ways behind you. Both of them look very excited at your short but romantic exchange with Jonathan. Quickly you look ahead of you again, and urge Jonathan to continue promenading with you. “They’re still watching us,” you whisper, grinning.

“Well, of course they are. Your aunt is here to chaperone, and my mother is here for her own amusement,” Jonathan tells you, returning the grin. He has become so much more at ease around you, and it delights you to see how he’s getting more confident.

“Sometimes I wonder if our parents and guardians see our young lives as a form of entertainment for them, like a book or a play,” you muse, only half-joking.

Jonathan chuckles. “I’m sure of it, actually.”

You were about to make another joke, but now you’re distracted. You see Trevor walking in your direction, seemingly out with a small group of other lords. Talking business, perhaps? Not that you care. What you care about is that _he’s seen you_ , you’ve made eye contact, and it’s too late for you to pretend you haven’t noticed him.

“Is something the matter?” Jonathan asks, looking worried. You had tightened your grip on his arm without even realising it.

Before you can answer him, Trevor has already made his way over to you. He calls out to you. Hearing him say your name made you feel a little weak. You turn to look at him, keeping your smile small. “It’s good to see you again,” he says, though he somehow sounds a little unsure of himself. He turns to Jonathan with a polite smile. You have no idea just how forced the smile is. “You must be Lord Burke. I’ve heard a lot about you from the Carters.”

Jonathan returns the smile and shakes Trevor’s hand. “Only good things, I hope.” He glances at you with a small grin, which you return. He turns his attention back to Trevor. “I’m afraid I must have missed your name, though. I don’t think the Carters have ever mentioned you.” You feel some tension between the two of them, but Jonathan’s friendly expression doesn’t falter. “You are...?”

“Lord Belmont. Trevor Belmont,” he says, taking back his hand.

“Ah, of course! My apologies for forgetting... You have my condolences for what happened to your family. It’s a tragedy, truly. I hope they bring the perpetrator to justice soon.”

Not this bullshit again, Trevor thinks. “Thank you,” he tells Jonathan. He looks at you and wonders if this really is the man you’re going to marry and spend the rest of your life with. If this is the man you _want_. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll be taking my leave.”

He offers Jonathan a polite nod, but not to you. No, for you, he has something entirely different. He takes your free hand. You do nothing to stop him. Holding eye contact with you the entire time, Trevor presses a kiss to the back of your gloved hand. You feel the heat rise to your cheeks. You desperately want to say something, _do_ something, but you find yourself completely helpless when he looks at you like that. It feels like his pale blue eyes hold a dark promise just for you, and by God do you want to find out what it is.

The moment feels like it lasts forever, but in reality it’s over in mere seconds. Trevor lets go of your hand, and with another polite smile he’s gone. You bring the hand he kissed to your chest.

“Are you alright?”

Jonathan’s voice pulls you out of your daze. You look up at him, quickly nodding. “Yes,” you say, your voice just a quiet whisper.

He frowns, looking at the pavement. “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

Your stomach twists and turns, and your chest tightens. “How so?”

“It’s... It’s not appropriate.” He lowers his voice. “The way he looks at you is so lustful.”

You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. “Oh.”

Jonathan gently leads you further along, stopping in the shade of a large tree. He looks genuinely worried. “Did he upset you? If so, I’ll go after him right now—”

“No,” you interject. “No, I just... I didn’t expect...” You trail off, not entirely sure what to tell Jonathan. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess right now. You had been so convinced that Trevor was completely out of your reach. Yet here you are, wondering if maybe, just maybe, he wants you too.

Of course, Jonathan isn’t blind. He can see the way your composure has been completely broken apart just by Trevor kissing the back of your hand. There’s a lump in his throat, and he swallows hard. “Shall we continue, then?”

You look up and smile at him. “Yes,” you say, but you’re a little unsure.

*

In the candlelight, Gustav checks his books. They have enough money to make it to the end of the month. If he takes a small sum from Odessa’s dowry, then maybe they could make it through another. It wouldn’t hurt if her dowry was downsized a little. He could fire another staff member, but Lady Buckman would surely start to notice a pattern if he did. The last thing he wants is his wife to get angry, or worse: worry.

He exhales through his nostrils as he leans back in his chair.

Gustav hopes the constabulary will get back at him soon. He doesn’t hate Trevor, of course not. However, he simply has to do what needs to be done for the sake of his family.


	7. Bad Intentions (X)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor reflects on how he feels about the Carter debutante. He indulges himself when his mind drifts to darker places.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Voilà, I once promised smut, and now I deliver. Enjoy today’s bonus chapter!

Trevor is alone again.

This time, however, he doesn’t have any bottles of alcohol keeping him company. He can’t sleep. He thought maybe doing some paperwork in his office would help, but he finds himself unable to focus. The letters, books, quill, and inkwell lie forgotten on the desk in the demure candlelight. Normally whenever he can’t sleep, he’d be off to a tavern or pub to find the prettiest wench to have his way with. Not this time. He doesn’t even consider it. He can’t stop thinking about you, and it frustrates him to no end.

He’s completely, hopelessly infatuated with you.

It’s your humour and your wit, he thinks. Or maybe your smile. Or the way you look at him, making him feel like the only person in the world that matters. Or maybe it’s all of that at once.

The look you gave him when he kissed your hand is burned into his mind. You looked so surprised, but the pink flush on your cheeks did not go unnoticed. Were you shy, or did you like it? He wonders how you would have reacted if he had kissed further up your arm. Trevor laughs dryly. He’d probably have gotten punched in the face by Jonathan. Not that he would blame him if he did. If Trevor was the one who had you on his arm, he would have punched any other lord just for kissing your hand in his presence.

Maybe that’s the difference between him and Jonathan. He wonders if Jonathan wants you as feverishly as he does. He wonders if Jonathan would do to you the things that _he_ wants to do to you.

Trevor rests the back of his head on the backrest of the chair and stares at the ceiling.

The hunting trip.

Was it stupid of him to get so close to you? Maybe. Maybe he wouldn’t feel this way in the first place if he had never felt your body pressed against his, but by God he doesn’t regret it one bit. Did you like it too, feeling him so close? Did you like it when his hands moved over your body to “readjust” your stance, even though you were holding the rifle correctly already? Did you like it when he brought his lips close to your ear and whispered to you?

Trevor groans, knuckles turning white while his hands grip the armrest of his chair. He’s been nothing but frustrated while thinking about you. He needs a release. His hands move to his trousers to unbutton them.

What if it had just been the two of you? Would you have stopped him if he had kissed your neck? If he’d licked and sucked at the delicate skin? He can imagine the way you’d moan, the way you’d tilt your head back and go completely weak in his arms. If it was up to him, he would have taken you then and there.

He pulls his cock out of his trousers and inhales sharply through his teeth. After closing his eyes, he begins stroking his length with slow and languid movements. A moan escapes his lips.

If it was up to him, he would have thrown aside that rifle and have his hands roam all of your body. He would have felt you up under your dress, asking you if it feels good when he touches you like that. He would have slipped his fingers between your legs, teasing and rubbing your clit in whatever way you like and whatever way you want him to.

Panting lightly, Trevor’s hand begins to move faster. The office is filled with the wet sounds of his masturbation. He doesn’t want to stop. He needs this. He needs you.

He wonders if you would like it if he ate you out. If he sat you down on the edge of a table, and started trailing kisses from your neck all the way down to your thighs. If he pushed up your dress, and revealed your most intimate parts to him. He’d kneel down in front of you, willing and ready to worship your body, kissing from your knee, up your thigh, until his mouth is just inches away from your core. Would you shudder when you feel his hot breath on your folds? Would you beg him to stop teasing, and to finally just start licking and sucking your clit?

Trevor tilts his head further back, chest rising and falling as he pants and moans your name. His free hand grips the armrest. He can feel his climax getting near.

God, he wishes you were here right now. He wishes you were completely bare, straddling his lap and guiding his cock into your dripping wet folds. He thinks about how you’d look on top of him, riding him in the candlelight. He thinks about how you’d lean down to kiss him, how he’d have his hands grab your ass. He thinks about how he could kiss your breasts, and lick and suck on your nipples while you arch your back. He thinks about how you’d forget everything but his name when you cum on his cock.

The fantasy sends him over the edge. Trevor bites his bottom lip, body tensing up as he feels his release. Hot seed spurts from his cock, onto his hand and his dark trousers. He’s panting, and slowly his body relaxes. For a moment, he feels nothing but pure bliss.

However, it doesn’t last long. He’s pulled back to reality eventually. Looking down at his trousers, he cusses under his breath. He’ll have to find a way to clean them without his staff finding out. Or maybe it would be easier to just burn these. While cleaning up, he feels guilt wash over him. How could he fantasise about you like that? You two are _friends_ , nothing more. You’re clearly happy with Jonathan, what right does he have to ruin that for his own own selfish desires? Looking back, kissing your hand was stupid, and on top of that it was plain _disrespectful_ to both you and Jonathan.

Still, some part of him likes it. Some part of him wants to ruin his friendship with you, just so he can have a chance at tasting your kiss. Some part of him wants to tell you to ditch Jonathan and to be with him instead.

He’s not sure if he can ever look you in the eye again.


	8. An Accident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia finally managed to convince her niece to go to another ball. When she’s dancing there with Jonathan, she sees Trevor — but it looks like he’s avoiding her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the chapter where Trevor is petty as HELL. Enjoy!

The music isn’t so bad. Unlike the previous ball you went to (the one you had sworn would be your last...), you’re actually happy and willing to dance tonight. Of course, you’re not expecting to be dancing with anybody but Jonathan. Aunt Sophia had talked you into attending this ball, because... well, _of course_ she did. The more time you spent in the public eye with Jonathan, the better. According to her, at least. It sounded like a mantra at this point, that’s how often you’ve heard her say it. So there you are, wearing another one of your beautiful new dresses, dancing the night away without a worry on your mind.

However, it won’t last.

Trevor isn’t here because he wants to be. Not entirely, anyway. An invitation was extended to him, and it would have been rude for him to refuse. He was planning to leave early, honestly. That is, until he saw you dancing with Jonathan. He watches you smile at Jonathan, laugh with him, and twirl around the dance floor. His expression darkens. He’ll admit it, he’s jealous. It should be him dancing with you, not Jonathan. It should be him who is courting you, not Jonathan. It should be _him_ who would be your future husband, not Jonathan.

A look of silent realisation crosses his face.

Oh God.

He’s in love with you.

From your spot on the dance floor, you make eye contact with Trevor for nothing but a split second. He just as quickly looks away, pretending he hadn’t seen you. You frown as Jonathan spins you around. You know the steps to the dance perfectly, even when lost in thought. The entire evening, Trevor hasn’t come over to greet you. It gnaws at your mind, because you’ve made eye contact plenty times. He _knows_ it’s you and he _knows_ you’re here. Yet every time you catch him looking at you, he looks away and engages somebody else in conversation. Is he avoiding you? Could that really be it? Why would he do something so _childish_? Why won’t he just _leave_ if he’s avoiding you? Is this all really because of when he kissed your hand?

“Is something the matter?”

You look at Jonathan, who looks a little worried. He’s always worrying about you. Your difficult expression melts away from your face like snow in the springtime sun. It’s replaced with a reassuring smile. “No, not at all. I’m just parched from dancing.”

Jonathan leads you away from the dance floor. “Let us get you something to drink, then.”

You love how attentive Jonathan is. You could ask for the world on a silver platter, and he would find a way to give it to you. He grabs two glasses of champagne, handing one of them to you. After you clink the glasses together, you drink the champagne. It’s sweet and bubbly. You’re about to ask Jonathan if he likes the champagne—

Somebody bumps into Jonathan.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t see you there,” Trevor says, but you can tell that he’s lying through his teeth and it makes you see _red_ with anger.

Jonathan just sighs, looking down at his clothes. He’s spilled his champagne over his shirt. He looks more disappointed than angry, and you’re not sure _why_. You put away the two glasses and are about to ask Jonathan if he needs any help, but he stops you before you can speak. “Please, excuse me for a moment. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry about me.”

After he takes his leave, you turn to look at Trevor like you’re ready to murder him. He watches Jonathan go with a smug expression, which only serves to rile you up further. Then Trevor turns to look at you, cocking a brow. “What’s with that look? It was an accident, I swear.”

The _gall_ of this man. “An _accident—_ “

“That’s what I said.”

If it weren’t for the fact that you were surrounded by so many people, maybe you’d given him a taste of the right hook you were once notorious for. Through gritted teeth you hiss at him, “You are so _childish_! What is your problem? Did Lord Burke do something to anger you? Because you’ve been nothing but _rude_ to him since the moment you’ve met him!”

Trevor shrugs nonchalantly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You’re so angry you could cry at this point. Why does he have to ruin everything? “Trevor, you are insufferable,” you tell him coldly.

He’s frozen for a moment, hearing his name roll of your tongue like that. No “Lord Belmont”, no niceties. He almost doesn’t react when you turn away to leave and find Jonathan. Trevor grabs your wrist, earning a look of indignation from you. Still, that doesn’t stop him from presenting his request. “Dance with me. Please.” He almost sounds desperate, but you couldn’t care less. Your patience for him has run out.

“I don’t have room left on my dance card,” you snarl, keeping your voice low. Trevor should consider himself lucky. The only reason you’re not making a scene right now is not to worry aunt Sophia. You try to pull your wrist out of his hand, but Trevor only tightens his grip.

“You’re lying.”

“Well that makes two of us, doesn’t it?”

Trevor moves his hand from your wrist to hold your hand instead, and pulls you along to the dance floor with him. Fine. You’ll let him have his dance, but you’re going to make it the worst dance he’s ever had to endure. He puts his right hand on the small of your back, pulling you closer to him as he holds your right hand with his left. You can almost feel his hand burn through the thin fabric of your dress, but try to ignore the feeling of want. You’re still furious with him. Your left hand is placed on his shoulder, as is appropriate for the dance. However, what is less appropriate is you digging in your nails and hoping he can feel them through the fabric of your gloves and his clothes. All the while, you hold eye contact with him, and finally he doesn’t look away.

So you dance, and you “accidentally” step on his foot.

Multiple times.

The first few times, Trevor just carries on and pretends he didn’t feel anything. So with every following opportunity, you “accidentally” step on his foot a little harder. Eventually you get a wince out of him, and a sadistic smile appears on your face. In a mocking voice you tell him, “Sorry. It was an _accident_ , I swear.”

His expression darkens, and you feel his grip on your back and hand tighten a little. Your breathing gets a little heavier as the song nearly comes to a close. By the end of the song, you’ve only barely lifted your foot to _stomp_ on his, when Trevor spins you around and pulls your back against his chest. For a moment, just a moment, it feels like you’re the only two people in the ballroom. You’re panting lightly, and can feel his own pants on your ear and neck. His hands hold your waist. Then they move down to squeeze your hips as he growls, “Step on my foot one more time and see what happens.”

Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Quickly you free yourself from his arms and walk away without looking back.

*

“He’s alone. Quick, go ask him to dance with you.”

Odessa doesn’t even want to _look_ in Trevor’s direction. She’s frowning, keeping her arms crossed. “Father, how many times do I have to say it?” she asks, keeping her voice low. “I do not _want_ to dance with Lord Belmont. I don’t want to dance with any of these lords, for that matter. I don’t even want to marry yet. I don’t understand why it can’t wait until next season.”

Gustav bristles, exhaling loudly through his nostrils. His patience has worn thin. He’s running out of money, meaning he’s running out of time. It frustrates him to no end that Odessa won’t even _cooperate_. Does she not understand the gravity of the situation? He grabs his daughter’s arm, then takes her with him to somewhere they can speak privately. Odessa just walks along, looking miserable. “What you _want_ or _fail to understand_ is not important, daughter. What is important is the survival of our family,” he tells her, tightening his grip on her arm. “Surely you’ve realised by now why we haven’t been able to buy you new dresses? Why we haven’t hosted any events this season? At this rate, I’ll have to take money from _your_ dowry just so we can _eat_.”

Odessa blinks the tears out of her eyes, refusing to look at her father. Her voice is quiet but firm when she says, “Let go of my arm.”

He loosens his grip, then lets go. “You’ll understand when you’re older, Odessa. You will marry Lord Belmont, whether you like it or not.”

She shakes her head, wiping away her tears with the back of her hand. Then she walks away.

*

You catch up with Jonathan.

When you see him, you’re close to bursting into tears. “Jonathan, I’m so sorry—“

“It’s alright, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he tells you with his gentle, reassuring voice. He takes your hands into his and kisses them. “I’m not upset. It’s alright. There’s no need to be sad.”

You can’t hold back the tears this time. You’re overwhelmed with emotions that you don’t understand. By God, you’re so confused. You don’t know what you want. You don’t know _who_ you want. Jonathan pulls you into a hug, letting you cry into his shoulder as he whispers sweet nothings to you and strokes your hair.

“You know, I don’t think your friend likes me very much,” Jonathan says as a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

It earns him a dry chuckle from you through your tears.

“Should we find your aunt and take you home?”

You nod and mumble, “Yes, I would like that.”

Trevor watches you leave the ball with Jonathan, and realises just how badly he fucked up.


	9. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Carter debutante confronts Trevor about his strange behaviour. The next day, Marcus comes home with big news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Yeah. It’s all coming together. [rubs my hands together like the scheming little fly I am] Enjoy today’s chapter!

Trevor is here for dinner again, and you hate it. He’s been seated next to you again, and you hate that even more. You’re sure the others have noticed your sour mood. Aunt Sophia has tried multiple times to include you in the conversation, but the answers you give are all short and overly polite. You’ve been giving off all the signals that you want to be left alone, and eventually she obliged. Even Prudence and Grace have picked up on your obvious hints, and are better behaved at the dinner table than they usually are.

From the corner of your eye you can see Trevor steal glances at you over and over, seeking _any_ form of contact with you. You think to yourself that if he tries to touch you, maybe you’ll stab his hand with your knife.

*

You thank God that Trevor is finally leaving. He’s been sticking around for far longer than usual after dinner, sitting in the drawing room with your family while talking to Marcus. Then again, nothing is ever easy, is it? Before he goes, he calls out your name and asks if he can speak privately with you. You look at Marcus with a pleading look on your face, almost _begging_ him to send Trevor away. Ever so helpful and ever so good at picking up hints, your cousin just shrugs. With a loud sigh you close and put away your book, then walk to the door. Trevor follows suit.

When you’re in Marcus’ empty office and the door behind you has closed, you cross your arms and look at the floor. You don’t say anything, simply waiting for him to speak.

“Christ, won’t you even look at me?” Trevor asks, sounding exasperated.

Your eyes snap up, and if you could leach arsenic into the air right now to kill Trevor, you would. “Why would I want to look at the man who is clearly so intent on ruining my chance at a happy marriage with Lord Burke?” Before Trevor can respond, you’re ranting at him. Everything comes pouring out, with no stopping it. “All you’ve been doing is behaving childishly and _inappropriately_ whenever he’s around! Don’t you want me to be happy? Is that it? Or do you simply hate Lord Burke for no reason? Here I was, thinking we were _friends_! But ever since Lord Burke and I have gotten closer, you’ve turned into the most _godawful_ person to be around! Every social event I go to with him, I _dread_ seeing you, Trevor.” You’re in tears, feeling some sense of relief now you’re finally saying all of this out loud. “You’re always so rude to him when he clearly doesn’t deserve it, and then you go around treating me like... like...” You trail off for a moment, running your hand through your hair. You treat me like you’re courting me, you think, but you can’t say that out loud. You take a deep breath and continue, “It feels like you’re trying to sabotage my relationship with Jonathan, and I _hate_ it. I hate that I dread seeing you, because I don’t want to feel that way! I... I want us to be _friends_ , not... not whatever is going on now.”

You quiet down and look at him, waiting for a response. He chews on his bottom lip, looking at the ground.

God. That’s not entirely true, is it? It is mostly true, though. When you get married to Jonathan, you want to stay friends with Trevor. That much is true. However, you’ve realised that the way you feel for Jonathan is so, so different from how you feel for Trevor. Of _course_ you like Jonathan, but your heart doesn’t ache for him like it does for Trevor. Jonathan doesn’t bring out the worst and the _best_ parts of you the way Trevor does. You realise now that you don’t just _want_ Trevor... You’re in love with him. You _burn_ for him.

Trevor swallows hard. “You’re right.”

You blink while you stare at him. You’re so stunned that you’ve stopped crying. Did Trevor just admit he was wrong? You can barely believe your ears. Next thing you know, pigs will start flying.

“I’ve been behaving like... well, like an ass, really.”

You snort dryly, wiping away the tears with the back of your hand. “You can say that again.”

Trevor offers you a lopsided grin. You want to kiss that stupid smile from his face. “Don’t push it,” he quips back. His expression turns serious again and he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I really am. I just... Well, the way you ignored me the entire time hurt like Hell, you know? I suppose I acted the way I did because I...” He trails off, trying to find the words.

You hold your breath.

“I was afraid of losing you. I was worried that... that once you’re married, we can’t be friends anymore.”

Immediately you burst out in tears again. God, you’d wished so, so badly that he would have told you he loved you. This settles it, doesn’t it? Your feelings for Trevor are unrequited. Friends is all you’ll ever be. You’re frustrated, sad, and tired. You’re grieving for the future you thought you could have with him, but never will. You’ll never marry him. You’ll never be his wife. You’ll never get to wake up next to him and kiss him good morning. Trevor pulls you in for a hug, and you cry with your face buried in his chest. You can never let him know how you truly feel. Through sobs and hiccups you tell him, “If-If you kept behaving like that, you-you would have cer-certainly lost me as a-a friend!”

“I know, I see that now. It was stupid of me, I’m so sorry,” he mumbles, kissing the top of your head. You want to hit him. Or maybe yourself. Or maybe both. “Can you forgive me?”

“No. Go die.”

Trevor laughs, and you can feel his chest rumble with the deep sound. You’re so, so in love with him, and having him so close yet so far away _hurts_. It physically hurts. You wish he could hold you like this forever. His strong arms are comforting, even if he has no idea about the real reason why you’re so upset, and likely never will.

*

The warm sunlight filters in through the white, sheer curtains that hang in front of the large windows. It’s a quiet afternoon in Carter house, with nothing planned but tonight’s dinner.

Your fingers glide across the keys of the pianoforte, filling the drawing room with music. Serene, yet melancholy music. Normally you’d play something more upbeat, but today you’re taking the time to reflect and stitch together your broken heart. You close your eyes, willing away the tears that threaten to form every time you think about Trevor. The conversation you had with him yesterday had torn you completely apart. After he left, you spent the night crying in your room. You don’t even know for sure if this entire affair is worth your tears. Are you just being dramatic? Or maybe aunt Sophia is right, and you’re just young and inexperienced? Regardless, you’re glad your back is facing your aunt and cousins. You know that the moment your aunt sees your face, she’ll know something is wrong.

Eventually, your heart will mend itself. You know it will. You just need some time apart from Trevor, to sort out your feelings. You care for him a lot as a friend, and if this is what he wants then so be it... but oh, how you’ve come to loathe the word “friend”. Just friends. Did all of it mean nothing, then? Whenever he got close to you, was it simply because he was comfortable enough around you to do so casually? Did he not feel the same burning desire for more, _more_ , each time you touched? So it seems. Because all you and Trevor are, and ever will be, is just friends.

The door to the drawing room opens, and Marcus walks inside with a big smile. You don’t bother to look nor to stop playing the pianoforte when he speaks up. “I have fantastic news!”

You hear aunt Sophia practically jump from the sofa. “Well? What is it?”

“So I just came back from the gentlemen’s club—“

“Oh won’t you just get to the point, Marcus?”

“Fine, fine!” Marcus pauses, and you think he’s probably grinning right now. “Lord Burke has asked for permission to propose.”

Your fingers involuntarily slam down on the wrong keys, sending loud, dissonant notes into the air. A silence follows while you stare at the piano. Nobody dares utter a word. You can only imagine the worried looks on your family’s faces.

“Darling... You don’t have to accept right away,” aunt Sophia says carefully, her voice soothing. “There’s always next season.”

“Next season doesn’t have anything to offer for me.” Not anymore, anyway. You turn around and face your family with a smile, but there’s no happiness behind it. “Tell Jonathan he has my consent to propose to me.”


	10. The Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At a garden soirée, everything reaches a climax.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it finally is...! [bows] Enjoy!

You look at yourself in the mirror.

You’re beautiful. Objectively so. The dress you’re in is the last of the new dresses that aunt Sophia bought for you, and by far the prettiest one. It likely cost a small fortune, judging by the quality of the fabric and the flawless needlework. The dress fits your body like a glove. Of course it does. It was made for you, and you only. It highlights all the best parts of your body without being too revealing, and despite everything going on in your head, you _feel_ beautiful too. You’d been saving this dress for a special occasion, and that special occasion will be tonight. This is the dress you’ll get engaged in.

Flora is busying herself with your hair and jewellery. “You look _stunning_ , miss! Oh, Lord Burke is going to see you and feel so fortunate to have you as his future wife.” She takes a step back to admire her handiwork. Her hands are clasped together in front of her chest. “My goodness,” she says, eyes twinkling with delight. “A real lady.”

You smile for Flora. She’s been with you on this journey every step of the way. She’s the reason you always look flawless whenever you attend a social gathering. You honestly wouldn’t be here without her, for better or for worse. “Thank you, Flora. For everything.”

She waves it off. “Oh, no need to thank me, miss. It’s my pleasure.” Suddenly she gasps. “I just remembered! Lady Carter had special instructions for me regarding your jewellery.” Flora walks over to your vanity and opens the mysterious velvet box that had been sitting there. She shows you its contents, and your eyes widen. “Tonight, you’re wearing the family diamonds.”

*

This is it.

You’ve arrived at the soirée. Your diamond necklace and earrings catch the light beautifully, only rivalled by the stars in the dark, cloudless sky above you. Everyone has their eyes on you as you walk to the dance floor, led by your aunt who has your arm linked with hers. The ton has been abuzz with speculation that there will be a proposal tonight. After all, is it not the perfect night for it? A delightful garden soirée with virtually everyone in the ton present. Beautiful decor, beautiful music, and you, soon a beautiful bride-to-be. You can only smile weakly in return to the people beaming at you. This is supposed to be _your_ night, but it doesn’t feel that way.

It feels like you can’t get enough air. You know it’s not because of the corset. It’s not laced any tighter than it usually is. You know it’s because of the nerves. Tonight Jonathan will ask you a question, and your answer to that question is going to change your entire life. You’ll be a married woman.

Your aunt leads you to Jonathan, who smiles at you. He looks at you in complete awe. You think he tells you that you’re beautiful, but you’re not sure. All you can really hear is the thumping of your heart. You smile back at him, it’s all you manage to do. Jonathan takes your hand and leads you onto the dance floor. Everything around you is a blur. You feel him guiding your steps, and you let your muscle memory do the rest. You can’t really hear the music, but you can tell that it’s a waltz.

One, two, three.

This is supposed to be one of the best nights of your life. One of the most special nights in your life for you and Jonathan together. Maybe you’ll look back on it later and smile, laughing at how dazed you were the entire night. You’ll be Lady Burke, Jonathan’s beautiful wife, and Jonathan will be your handsome, doting husband. You’ll probably have kids somewhere along the way. One boy, and one girl, you would hope. You wonder if Jonathan would be upset if you never had any sons. Probably not. It’s not like him to get upset about something like that. Besides, you know Jonathan has brothers. The Burke family name can just as well continue through them.

One, two, three.

Is that the future you want? It feels like a happy future. A very normal, happy future. One that is appropriate for young ladies such as yourself to strive for. Still, even the thought of it leaves you unfulfilled. What kind of excitement will your life have? Jonathan is an open book to you. Initially you had liked it. In the short time you’ve been together, you feel like you’ve learned everything there is to learn about him... but that doesn’t spell much good for your future. He’s not like Trevor, who still seems to hold secrets that you so desperately want to uncover. Trevor, who seems to have a penchant for getting into trouble and dragging you along with him. Trevor, who makes your blood boil and your heart flutter and pushes you to be the best version of yourself every day.

One, two, three.

Trevor. God, _Trevor_. You should have known from the day you met, no, from the _moment_ you looked at each other, that it’s always been Trevor. With that cocky smile, those stunning blue eyes, and hair you just want to run your fingers through. Trevor, who you want to hug, who you want to kiss, who you want to keep by your side forever and ever. Trevor, who makes you laugh, who makes you cry, who makes you feel so human and so, so _alive_. Just thinking about him is enough to nearly bring you to tears. How can anything in life be fair when you can’t be with the person who makes you feel this way? How could you possibly live, how could you get over the heartbreak? Your heart burns for Trevor, and without him it feels like you’ll be reduced to nothing but ashes and embers.

Jonathan stops dancing. You can’t get enough air. The other couples around you continue dancing around you, making your head spin. He’s saying something to you, but all you can do is stare at his face. This is it, isn’t it? You’re about to get engaged, and all you can do is just stand there. Jonathan smiles, and reaches into his coat pocket.

Then suddenly, total clarity rushes over you.

You hear the music again. You see Jonathan’s face. You see the dancing couples around you, the lights, the musicians, the guests watching you.

You see Trevor.

Lord Buckman is saying something to him, and though you cannot hear what he’s saying, you see that his expression is dark and threatening. Trevor looks nervous. He’s being pulled away by Lord Buckman, away from the party, and you instinctively _know_ that he’s in trouble. In that moment, that’s all that matters to you. Not this soirée, not Jonathan, not even the proposal.

“I’m sorry,” you tell Jonathan, and you mean it.

Hitching up your dress, you run after Trevor.

*

“You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into, Buckman.”

Gustav laughs wryly, casually pacing around the secluded part of the garden that he has led Trevor to. “Do I not? Because I think I know exactly what I’m getting myself into. And I think that that’s why you’re finally taking me seriously, Lord Belmont.” He takes a small bundle of papers from inside his coat. “I have some friends within the constabulary, and they’ve got connections. I did some asking around about the tragedy that befell your family.”

Trevor clenches his jaw and balls up his hands into fists.

“Do you speak Latin, Lord Belmont?” Gustav asks, seeming perfectly calm. “If you do, you might be familiar with the phrase “ _cui bono_ ”. It means “to whom is it a benefit”. This is the exact question I asked myself when looking into the Belmont massacre. The massacre that left you the sole inheritor of your family’s estate and vast fortune. Seems rather beneficial for you so far.”

Through gritted teeth Trevor snarls, “Keep talking, Buckman, and I’ll—”

“At a soirée? Are you sure about that? That won’t be a very good look for you, Lord Belmont,” Gustav says. His smile is so smug, it makes Trevor’s blood boil. What’s worse is that he knows Gustav is right. He wants Gustav to shut up. He wants to _punch_ him. Maybe shoving him into the rosebushes will already be enough. However, he can’t. Not here. Not with the rest of the party nearby. The older lord continues talking. “You might have the sympathies of the ton now. You are a _victim_ in their eyes, after all... but what if they find out what the constabulary thinks? What if they find out that _you_ were the prime suspect during the investigation? What if they find out that you _bribed_ the constabulary to stop the investigation? The investigation into your own family’s massacre. What then, Trevor Belmont?”

Trevor is shaking with anger. How dare he. How _dare_ he. “You don’t _understand_ —”

“I understand perfectly well that you’re a cold-blooded murderer. One who killed his own flesh and blood for money. You know that if the ton finds out about this, you can forget about your life here in London. Or _anywhere_ , for that matter,” Gustav barks at Trevor, angrily waving the papers at him. “You’ll be cast out of society, just as you deserve!”

It’s taking Trevor ever last drop of self control and restraint he has to not attack Gustav. He wants to draw his sword from his hip, he wants to _kill_ him. He takes deep breaths to calm himself. “What do you want, then? Is it money? The _estate_?”

Gustav smiles. It’s cold and calculating, and it makes Trevor sick to his stomach. “All I want you to do is take Odessa’s hand in marriage.”

Of course. Marriage. Trevor should have known. Gustav is not the kind of man to ask for a simple bribe. It would be too easily revealed to the rest of the ton. He has his own reputation to think of. No, Gustav has a far more cunning plan up his sleeve, and Trevor can see exactly how it’s going to play out. Trevor will take Odessa’s hand in marriage. She’ll give birth to an heir. Then Trevor tragically dies in an “accident”, and the money, the estate... everything goes to the Buckmans. It’s so simple, and he hates himself for not seeing it coming from a mile away.

His shoulders slump. This is it, then. He exhales through his nostrils, then looks up at Gustav to respond.

However, he’s interrupted before he can even begin.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Lord Buckman.”

Both men turn to look at you. You’re out of breath from running, but you’ve never been so perfectly composed in your entire life. Trevor is stunned. He can’t even bring himself to respond, or to ask you what the Hell you’re doing here so far away from the rest of the party. He just stares at you. God, you’re beautiful, he thinks to himself.

Gustav raises his brows. “And why is it not possible?”

You walk over to Trevor’s side and hold his hand. “Because Lord Belmont and I are already engaged.”


	11. Apologies and Farewells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and his new fiancée share the news. Then they have a frustrating conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on tight because the rollercoaster is only just beginning...! No I’m just kidding, I can’t stand it when characters are sad for too long. (It makes ME sad...) Everything will be okay in a few chapter from here I PROMISE... Enjoy!

You’re engaged.

Not exactly in the way you had imagined you would ever be. There was no ring. There was nobody kneeling down in front of you. There was no “will you marry me?” asked by anyone. No, you had simply announced it, and with that it was spoken into existence.

You’re still holding Trevor’s hand, giving Gustav a challenging stare. You can see from the corner of your eye that Trevor is still looking at you. He hasn’t said anything yet, but you’ll deal with him later. First you need to make sure that somehow, Gustav will leave Trevor alone. You had only picked up the last part of the conversation, when Trevor had asked Gustav what he wanted, and Gustav had told him exactly what.

The older lord blinks, then with an incredulous laugh he asks, “I beg your pardon?”

“Then beg.”

Gustav’s jaw nearly hits the ground, and he begins to fume while you keep staring him down. There is absolutely nothing in the world that could move you from your spot next to Trevor. His safety and well-being is all that matters to you right now. You feel his hand holds yours just a little tighter. Gustav begins ranting at you, “You have some _nerve_ , girl, interfering like this—”

“No. You listen to me,” you tell him firmly, feeling a surge of confidence like never before. “ _You_ have some nerve trying to blackmail somebody into marrying your daughter. Now I think it’s in your best interest for you to leave now, because it would be awfully unfortunate if other people found out about what happened here. I, for one, am willing to keep your vile actions a secret, if you walk away and never speak of this again.” He’s about to interject, but you lift a finger to stop him. “Do not think that just because you are a man, people will believe your word over mine. The ton knows that you’re no saint, Lord Buckman, whereas my family has been well-liked for years. Should you ever speak of this again, I will tell everyone the truth, the _whole_ truth, and _your_ family’s reputation would be ruined. Your daughter would lose all chance she has at finding a husband. Surely that’s not what you want for her, Lord Buckman?”

Gustav bristles. He points at you and Trevor accusingly. “This isn’t over. You are an evil man, Belmont. Your past will catch up to you eventually. I hope for the sake of your _blushing bride_ that she knows what I know.”

With that, Gustav stomps off.

You let out the breath you had been holding, your body relaxing as you sigh. He’s gone. He’s been dealt with. Trevor is unharmed. Closing your eyes, you say out loud, “Good God, that was the most nerve-racking thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.”

Trevor takes his hand out of yours and runs it through his hair. “And the stupidest.” He shakes his head, looking upset with you. “What were you _thinking_?”

“A “thank you” would be appreciated,” you mumble, looking away.

He says your name. “Look at me. _Look at me._ ” You oblige, the surge of confidence you felt earlier completely disappearing. Trevor looks stressed beyond measure. He _is_ stressed beyond measure. He’s confused, and a little relieved, but also so, so upset with you. With an exasperated tone he asks you, “Do you understand what you just did? You just threw away your chance at marriage with Lord Burke. Your... Your entire _future_ with him is now gone.” He points at the direction Gustav stomped off to. “You told _him_ that we’re engaged. All of London will know about it in a matter of days.”

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Trevor, I just wanted to help. What kind of future would it be for me, if it meant I chose to let you get hurt instead of preventing it?”

His heart aches when he hears you say that, but he’ll never let you know. “I could have fixed this on my own,” he says, even though he knows it’s a lie. What matters is that he needs to prove his point to you. You were so enamoured by Jonathan, and now you’ve given all of that up for _him_. He can’t wrap his mind around it. Why, why in God’s name would you do that? He’s wanted you so desperately for so long, but... not like this. This felt wrong. This felt like he just stole your happiness away from you.

“You were in trouble, and I... I...” You trail off and let the tears freely roll down your cheeks.

He rubs the bridge of his nose. This is going to be the biggest headache of his life, he can already tell. How is he going to explain this to Marcus? To your aunt? How are _you_ going to explain this to Jonathan? “...It doesn’t matter. The damage has been done.” He sighs, lowering his hand to look at you with a frown. It hurts to see you cry. Lifting his hands, he tries to wipe away your tears, but you swat him away with an angry look on your face. Trevor’s expression turns steely. You finally realised how you’ve just ruined your life for him, then. “Come on. We need to tell your family.”

Trevor takes your hand, and you let him lead you back to the soirée. Even if it is with Trevor, this is not the engagement you had hoped or wished for. Maybe you’re just a lovestruck fool, you think to yourself. Because if you were faced with the same dilemma knowing what you know now, you’d still do the exact same thing.

*

Your family was surprised.

Well, that would be an understatement. They were shocked, actually. Including the eavesdroppers present at the party, of course. Now all of London will _certainly_ know about it within a matter of days. You all left the soirée early, Trevor returning to his own home. After you both told your family the news, he hadn’t spoken a word to you. You know he’s upset with you for giving up on Jonathan, but what hurts even more is that he seems to be unhappy to be engaged to you at all. You always thought that if you _had_ to marry, the choice that would be the _least_ dreadful would be to marry a friend. Trevor doesn’t appear to share that sentiment.

During the carriage ride back to Carter House, Marcus insisted that you visit Jonathan’s home first thing in the morning to apologise to him in person. He didn’t have to convince you to do it, you already wanted to talk to him face to face about it.

You’re chewing on your bottom lip while you look at Jonathan, who just gives you a sad smile. “I will be honest with you, I’m not entirely surprised. I just thought it would have happened... well, weeks before I planned to propose to you, rather than seconds before.” He forces an awkward chuckle, running a hand through his blonde hair. “I know Lord Belmont wasn’t “officially” courting you, but I could tell from the way he looked at you that I would still be competing for your heart with him. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, and this time I’ve lost.”

He shrugs listlessly. Jonathan is trying so hard to be casual about it, but you can see how disappointed he is. “I’m so sorry,” you say with a small voice. You mean it. “I really like you a lot, Jonathan, but...”

“But you don’t love me. You love him,” he finishes the sentence for you. Your chest tightens, because you know it’s true. He shakes his head, still wearing that sad smile. “I don’t hold it against you, nor am I upset with you. I understand, I’m just... I’m simply disappointed that it didn’t work out between us. However, maybe it is better this way, don’t you think? I don’t know how I would feel about being married to someone whose heart belongs to somebody else.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat. You’re at a loss for words. There’s nothing you can say that can fix this. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll take my leave now.”

Jonathan takes a deep breath, then gives you a brave smile. He looks a little less sad than before. “I wish you all the happiness in the world. I bid you farewell.”

“As do I for you. Farewell, Jonathan.”

*

You’re sitting in the drawing room next to aunt Sophia, waiting for Trevor to arrive. Neither of you have said much to each other since the announcement. After letting out a sigh, your aunt turns to look at you and says, “Darling, I know I wasn’t fooled. I know you have feelings for Lord Belmont. I just... I just don’t understand why you’re so unhappy now you’re finally engaged to him!”

You sink further into the sofa. “Because he’s not happy to be engaged to me.”

Aunt Sophia blinks, then takes your hands to give them a reassuring squeeze. “Nonsense! How could that be the case? He proposed to you, he wouldn’t have if he would be unhappy about it!”

A shade of pink flushes your cheeks with embarrassment. “Well... not entirely.”

“Excuse me?”

You look away. “I... sort of was the one who proposed.”

Aunt Sophia looks shocked. Again. It seems this season is the season where you keep hauling in surprises left and right for her. She brings one hand to her chest. “My goodness. Here I was thinking _I_ was the most forward-thinking lady in the ton... and he accepted?”

“I... Well, yes, I suppose he did, didn’t he?”

The door to the drawing room opens, and one of the servants announces Trevor’s arrival. Aunt Sophia whispers to you that you’ll continue talking about this later. Both of you get up from the sofa to receive him. He walks into the drawing room. When he sees you, he just bows a little. No smile, no verbal greeting. Aunt Sophia looks at you, then at Trevor, and then back at you. With an awkward smile she says, “Well, I’ll give the two of you a moment to speak privately. Don’t do anything scandalous while I’m gone!”

You groan internally, feeling your cheeks flush again. Aunt Sophia leaves with the servant, closing the door behind her.

It’s just the two of you.

Trevor holds his hands behind his back, and is looking at the ground. His expression is stoic, but you know him well enough to know that he’s not happy to be here. You fidget with your dress, then gesture at the sofa. “Shall we sit?”

Without responding, Trevor walks over to the sofa and sits down with a sigh. He leans against the backrest, then stares at the ceiling. You’re annoyed.

Sitting down next to him and crossing your arms, you tell him, “Trevor, won’t you just _quit moping_ and—” You pause. Then you lean over closer to him. Trevor finally looks you in the eye, blinking. He’s about to ask you what you’re doing when you sit back and asks him, “ _Have you been drinking?_ ”

He groans and looks away.

“Jesus Christ, Trevor! It’s not even _noon_ yet!” you hiss incredulously. “Is it so terrible to be engaged to me that you have to drink to forget about it?”

“What’s terrible is your stupid act of self-sacrifice,” he snaps. Finally, he’s talking to you. Even if it’s to argue, at least he’s talking. He gets up from the sofa and begins pacing around the drawing room, completely restless. “What were you _thinking_? Do you have any idea how difficult it’s going to be to find you a husband now? There’s no way Jonathan is going to take you back. If you’re lucky, maybe you can marry one of the older, widowed lords.” He laughs wryly. “But they certainly won’t be as kind and caring as Jonathan would have been for you!”

You frown. “What are you talking about? I’m going to marry _you_.”

He stops pacing, and turns to look at you. “No.”

“ _No?_ ”

“We’ll figure out a way to get Gustav off my back. When he’s been dealt with, we call off the engagement.”

You stare at Trevor. He can’t be serious. He has to be joking, right? Does he truly hate it so much to be engaged to you? You begin to cry, unable to stop the tears of anger and grief. “I don’t understand. Is there somebody else who you love? Or do you simply loathe me so much that you can’t even stand the thought of being married to me?”

Trevor wants to explain. He really does, but he can’t without putting you in danger, and that’s the _last_ thing he wants. He shakes his head, his expression softening and turning sorrowful. “There is nobody else, and I don’t hate you. I don’t think I ever could hate you. We just...” He trails off. “I can’t marry you. For your sake. I’m... I’m sorry. I’ll fix this.”

With a tired sigh you wipe away your tears and get up from the sofa. “You can ask the servants to show you out.”

Then you leave the drawing room.


	12. Hunter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor has a close call when out hunting at night. He returns home to find somebody waiting for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to get the T... Enjoy!

There’s not a soul outside on the streets of this part of London. Not at this hour, anyway. They’re all too afraid. There’s been a string of missing person cases in the neighbourhood. The lights within the dilapidated homes are all off, meaning — hopefully — nobody is awake to bear witness to what is about to transpire. A mist hangs in the air. The dim glow of the street lamps don’t do much to illuminate the road. An evil is stalking through the darkness, looking to claim victims. Trevor is right behind it.

The creature walks hunched over, on all fours. Black fur covers its body. It lifts its bat-like head to sniff the air. It needs to eat. Then a low, guttural growl bubbles from its throat when it picks up the monster hunter’s scent. It turns around to face him.

“So you’re the reason why people have been going missing at night in the area,” Trevor says with a lazy grin.

His cocky attitude earns him a snarl.

“Uhuh. Well, I’m afraid I can’t let this continue.” Trevor cracks his whip, sending a sharp sound through the air. “There’s a bunch of assholes living in this city, but those assholes are under my protection.”

The demon charges at Trevor, growling and snarling with its maw wide open, intent on tearing the monster hunter to shreds and feasting on his remains. However, this isn’t the first time that Trevor has fought a night creature, and by God it certainly won’t be his last. The whip lashes at the demon, cutting it across its torso and then its face. The second hit knocks it off balance, causing it to fall over onto the stone pavement of the street. It leaves behind a smear of black blood from its open wounds.

Trevor grins. “Come on then, is that all you’ve got?”

This is what he was made to do, he feels like. He waits patiently as the creature tries to scramble to its feet. Moments before it’s standing again, Trevor lashes out with the whip, then again, and again, and again, tearing the hide of the demon to shreds. Bits of tattered hide smack onto the pavement with disgusting, wet sounds. The creature stops moving, lying on its back in a pool of its own blood. Trevor takes a deep breath. That was easier than expected. Now to dispose of the body before anyone sees it. Even if _likely_ nobody would be able to connect dead monsters to him, most people don’t even know of the existence of monsters like that anymore. He doesn’t want to have to deal with a whole city that’s in a full-blown panic. He already has more than enough on his mind with the engagement.

The engagement. Truth to be told, he _also_ went hunting tonight to blow off some steam. He’s in a mess of his own making. A good analogy would be to say he’s in a hole he dug for himself, and for some godforsaken reason he can’t stop digging. He just wants you to be _happy_ , but all he’s doing is making you cry. Lost in thought, Trevor reaches down to grab the demon’s legs to pull it off the street.

However, it’s because he’s lost in thought that he doesn’t react quick enough when he sees its foot twitch. He’s knocked onto his back, the air knocked out of his lungs from the impact, and the demon has taken its chance to pounce onto him. Trevor draws his sword and parries the creature’s clawed hand before it can add another scar to his face. One is more than enough, he thinks. The blade of his sword is holding back the demon’s right hand, turning this into a battle of strength. The demon has the clear advantage by throwing its weight and gravity into the competition. Trevor has his teeth gritted and lets out grunts from the exertion, but he sees another problem in the corner of his eye. The creature is about to swipe down with its left claws, when Trevor slides his sword away from under its right hand. It leaves behind a nasty cut, causing the demon to howl and lose balance. Trevor kicks it in the side, knocking it over. Before it can react, he’s kneeling on top of the demon with the sole of his boot pressed down on its chest, and stabbing it repeatedly through the head.

Eventually it stops squirming.

The streets are quiet once again, and more importantly, safe. Trevor is panting, resting his forehead on the pommel of his sword. After a moment of catching his breath, he rises to his feet. When he pulls his sword out of the demon’s skull, he winces with pain. He hadn’t noticed during the fight because of the surge of adrenaline, but the monster managed to cut across his chest. It’s not very deep, so Trevor is sure he’ll manage. Still, what a waste of his nice waistcoat.

After sheathing his sword and rolling up his whip, Trevor grabs the demon by its hind legs and begins dragging it off the street. The Thames will be a fine place to dump it.

*

Trevor closes the front door behind him, then sighs. He listens carefully. None of the staff has woken up. Good. At this point they were used to him coming home bruised and bloodied, but he still hated having to worry them. He’s perfectly capable of stitching up himself.

When Trevor walks into the drawing room for a drink and to patch up, he gets the fright of his life.

“Hello, Belmont.”

“Jesus Christ— _Carter_? What the Hell? What are you doing here? _How_ did you get in?”

Marcus shrugs. “Don’t pretend you’ve forgotten that _you_ were the one who taught me how to pick a lock back at university.”

“A skill I now regret teaching you,” Trevor says, unbuckling the belt that holds the sheath of his sword. He puts aside his weapons to clean later. He stalks over to the liquor cabinet. “What do you want?”

“What I want is to know where you’ve been out so late at night, Belmont,” Marcus hisses, getting up from his seat and walking over to Trevor. “I came here at 9 looking to talk to you about the engagement, but you weren’t here. I swear to God if you are out _wenching_ while engaged to my _cousin_ , I’ll—” He stops in his tracks when he’s closer to Trevor. It was hard to see in the darkness, the drawing room only illuminated by the faint light from the street lamps coming in through the windows, but now Marcus sees that Trevor is all bruised and bloodied. “Man, what happened to you? You look like shit.”

Trevor pours himself and Marcus a drink. “Feel like shit too.” He hands Marcus a glass, which is accepted gratefully. “No, I wasn’t out wenching. I’m sure that if I even considered it, my fiancée would kill me before you got the chance to.” He lifts his glass to his mouth to take a sip.

Marcus snorts dryly. “Well, that you’ve got right about her. Seriously, though... God, are you still _bleeding_?”

“Oh, yeah. I think I am,” Trevor says, looking down at his chest. “Should probably do something about that...” He puts away the drink and begins looking for the first-aid kit he put together. It was here _somewhere_... Did he leave it under the sofa?

Marcus blinks, stunned by his friend’s casual behaviour. “You look like you almost got _killed_!”

“Yeah? Maybe I should have gotten killed, would be the quickest way to clean up the mess I made,” he says, pulling the first aid kit from under the sofa. He sits on the sofa, putting the box next to him and opening it.

“You can’t be serious.”

“What makes you think that?” Trevor has taken off his waistcoat and unbuttoned his shirt halfway to reveal the wound on his chest. He can just clean it and bandage it, then it’ll be fine. Marcus rubs the bridge of his nose, already getting tired of how casual Trevor is about the whole situation. He knows he’s not going to get answers out of his friend about what happened to him. Hopefully he can at least get him to talk about the reason why Marcus came here in the first place.

Marcus sighs, lowering his hand. “You know my cousin has spent the last few days looking completely miserable? She locks herself away in her room most days, probably crying. She told me you want to break of the engagement. She thinks you _hate_ her.”

Trevor stops cleaning his wounds for a moment. “I told her I could never hate her.”

“Well, your actions speak otherwise to her, Belmont!” Marcus says, sounding frustrated. He downs his drink, then sets aside the empty glass. He points an accusing finger at Trevor. “You can _not_ call off this engagement. If you do, not only _your_ family’s name will be ruined, but _mine_ too.” He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. “Is it _really_ so bad to get married to my cousin? She even told us that _she_ was the one who proposed!”

Trevor picks up a roll of bandages, but just holds it in his hands for a moment. At first he hesitates before speaking. Then he shakes his head and says, “No, it’s not a bad thing.” He takes a deep breath. “But I’m afraid of putting her in danger.”

Marcus looks like he’s calmed down a lot. “What do you mean?”

“At the garden soirée, just before she, well, proposed, Gustav Buckman tried to blackmail me into marrying his daughter. Your cousin stepped in and said we were already engaged to get him off my back.” He begins bandaging his chest while Marcus sits down in an armchair, sinking further into it as he processes the information. Trevor continues talking. “I’m worried he... I don’t know, might try to hurt her or something.”

“Jesus Christ.” Marcus stares out in front of himself. “She did it to protect you from getting blackmailed.” He looks at Trevor, who has finished bandaging himself and is buttoning his shirt again. “What did he try to blackmail you with?”

Trevor freezes up for a moment. He doesn’t know if he should tell Marcus. However... Buckman knows, and he would rather have Marcus hear it from him than from Buckman or another lord. Trevor swallows the lump in his throat, then looks at his friend. “He asked the constabulary for information about my family’s massacre.” He takes a deep breath. “He found out that I was the prime suspect.”

The drawing room is so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

Marcus sits up straight in his chair. “Tell me you didn’t do it.”

“I didn’t do it. I swear.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Marcus sinks back into the armchair. “Alright, Belmont. I believe you... and I know my cousin will too, but you need to tell her.” He looks at Trevor, moving to sit on the edge of his seat and leaning forward a little. With an urgent tone he tells him, “You need to tell her _everything._ Right now she thinks you’re pushing her away because you don’t want to be with her, not because you’re trying to keep her away from danger. She likes you, you know? A lot. And I hate to say it this way, but you have to marry her whether you want to or not. I won’t let you call off this engagement, for your own sake, and for mine.” He sighs. “The least you can do is make it a pleasant experience for yourself and my cousin.”

Trevor chews on his bottom lip. “You’re right. I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”


	13. White Tulips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor visits his fiancée at her home. He wants to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Alexa play BLACKPINK’s Kiss and Make Up....... Enjoy today’s chapter!

You’re alone in the drawing room, playing the pianoforte. It’s a slightly more upbeat tune today. You’ve been feeling a little better, too. Maybe it’s because your family have all been trying so hard to cheer you up. Every dinner, aunt Sophia has one of your favourite foods made. Prudence and Grace are glued to your side whenever they can. Marcus keeps trying to make you laugh with terrible jokes. Finally their efforts are starting to pay off, it seems. You smile as you play, reflecting on how grateful you are for your loving and supportive family.

The door opens, and one of the servants steps inside. “A visitor for you, miss.”

“Who is it?” you ask, still playing.

“Lord Belmont.”

Your fingers slam down on the wrong keys again, and you stop playing. You hear the footsteps of Trevor entering the room, and the servant leaving before closing the door behind him.

After taking a deep breath, you turn around on your chair to face him. “What do you—” You pause. He’s holding a bouquet of flowers. “...want.”

“I want to talk,” he says, taking a step forward. He clears his throat. “These are for you.”

You’re so confused. Last time he was here he was a mess, smelling like alcohol and refusing to look at you half of the time. You’d had a terrible argument. That was the last time you had spoken to him. Hesitantly you get up from your spot at the pianoforte, then make your way over to Trevor. All the while, you eye him suspiciously. Could this be some sort of trick? You take the flowers from him. White tulips. They’re pretty. “...Thank you,” you say, holding the bouquet to your chest. However, you’re still looking at him as if he has suddenly grown a second head.

“You can at least pretend to like them,” he grumbles. Ah, there is his old self.

“I do like them. Which is why I’m surprised, to say the least. Why are you here, wanting to talk, giving me something I _like_?” you ask him, narrowing your eyes at him. “Did someone put you up to this? Was it Marcus? Or my aunt?”

“No! Well, maybe a little.” Trevor groans. Why are you making this so difficult? “Come on, we should sit.” He takes the bouquet from your hands and puts it down on the pianoforte. Then he holds your hand to lead you to the sofa. You can only blink while you’re being pulled along. What is _happening_? Trevor sits you down, then sits down next to you. He hesitates first, but then says, “There are some things you need to know before we get married.”

Your jaw almost drops to the floor. “You... don’t want to call off the engagement?”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t. You really saved my sorry ass back there, and I guess there are worse women I could be engaged to.”

“Gee, _thanks_.”

Trevor grins. “You’re welcome.” You smack his shoulder, annoyed. He lets out an “ow!” and rubs his shoulder with his left hand. It’s only then that you notice the healing cuts on it.

You take his hand in yours to take a closer look. “You’re hurt,” you say, frowning. Did he get into a fight? No, you’d expect his knuckles to be bruised. This is different, as if something with _claws_ attacked him. You see one cut on the back of his hand that looks like it extends further up his arm. You’re about to reach out to push up his sleeve so you can see, but he quickly retracts his hand.

“I’m fine. It’s not important right now,” he tells you. “Will you finally _listen_? I’m trying to tell you something.” You huff and cross your arms, then gesture at him to start talking. “Thank you. Christ.” Trevor sighs, taking a moment to find the words. “I should probably start by explaining what Buckman was trying to blackmail me with. After... after my family was massacred, the constabulary investigated the murders. For a long time I was their prime suspect, because I... I appeared to be the only one to benefit. I didn’t have an alibi. Not one they could check, anyway. However, they couldn’t find enough evidence to pin the murders on me — I mean, of course they couldn’t, I didn’t do it — so I...” He trails off, and you look at him, holding your breath while you wait for him to continue. He has you on the edge of your seat. “I know this is going to sound bad, but please keep an open mind. I paid them off to stop the investigation.”

“ _What_?”

“I know! I know, but please listen. I’m not finished yet. What I told you is what Gustav found out by asking around with the constabulary, and of course _I know_ it makes me look like a murderer, but it’s really not what it looks like,” Trevor says quickly. This is a lot for you to take in. You exhale, staring at your lap as you try to register everything he told you. Trevor takes your hands into his, making you look at him again. His eyes are pleading, almost desperate. With a quiet voice he tells you, “I need you to believe me. I didn’t kill my family.”

“Of course I believe you, Trevor,” you whisper, moving to sit a little closer. You’re still confused and a little overwhelmed, but now you’re mostly worried about him. “But I don’t understand why you’d stop the investigation before the culprit was found.”

He looks relieved. “Thank God you believe me. I was worried you... Well, never mind.” You give his hands a squeeze and offer him a reassuring smile. You know Trevor Belmont is many things, but you know, just _know_ , that he would never hurt his family. He continues talking, “This brings me to my next point, why I’ve been behaving like an ass. Again.” You snort, and he grins for a short moment before his expression turns serious again. “I wanted to call off the engagement because I was afraid it would put _you_ in danger. I still am, really. I’m worried Buckman might try to hurt you, or worse. That, and I... I have some dangerous enemies. Which is why I paid off the constabulary to stop the investigation, because I knew it would have put _them_ in danger. So you... You need to know that if you marry me, you’ll likely become a target for those enemies. Do you understand that?”

You believe every word Trevor tells you. There’s not a drop of doubt in your mind regarding his innocence. It moves you to know that he would give up on seeing the killers be put to justice, just to keep the investigators safe from harm. Underneath that rough exterior, you know that he’s such a kind and compassionate man. Your heart swells with pride and adoration. Still, you can only wonder what Trevor means with those “powerful enemies”, but you figure he’s being vague for a reason. You’ll try to get an answer to that later. Right now what matters is putting Trevor’s mind to rest. You nod and tell him, “I understand, Trevor, and I’m willing to take that risk.” Then you grin and add, “If they truly want to target me... I say let them try.”

Hearing that you want to risk your own safety just to be married to him makes Trevor’s heart skip a beat. He chuckles, shaking his head. “Your overconfidence will be the death of you someday, woman.”

“Oh really? It sounds more like how _you’ll_ die.”

The two of you share a laugh, and finally it feels like everything has gone back to normal. Mostly, anyway. Trevor smiles at you, and you feel your heart flutter. You’re engaged to Trevor, and though you can’t kiss him, you at least have his company. Now and forever. You’re so relieved, in fact, that you can’t help but shed some tears.

“Oh God, what did I do wrong now?” Trevor asks as he wipes them away with his thumbs.

You laugh through the tears, shaking your head. “No, I’m just happy. That we’re back to being friends. Now at least our engagement can be _fun_ instead of miserable.”

Trevor feels a sting in his chest at the mention of the word “friends”. Of course. This engagement is to protect him, not because you have any feelings for him. Still, for a moment he let himself forget that. He pulls you into a hug, and you throw your arms around him. Pressing his face into your hair and the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply. He loves the way you smell, and the way your hugs always feel so warm and comforting. Little does he know that you’re thinking the exact same thing. He mumbles, “Of course, we were always friends. Always will be. We were just being stupid.”

“We?” you ask incredulously, pulling back and laughing. Your hands are still on his shoulders, and his arms still wrapped around your waist. You look at each other. He’s so close, you can count every single one of his lashes. You see the faintest hint of freckles on the bridge of his nose and on his cheeks. He’s so close, you could just kiss him then and there if you wanted to. God, you _do_ want to, but it wouldn’t be right. You look away, and the spell is broken.

“Yes, _we_ ,” Trevor says, pretending he wasn’t lost in your eyes just now. Jokingly he adds, “Who was the one who rushed into an engagement? It wasn’t me. I didn’t even get the chance to properly court you.”

“Maybe you should, then,” you blurt out without thinking.

“Maybe I will,” he responds, just as quickly.

After he leaves, you put the tulips on display in a vase in your room. You take out one to press and dry between two heavy books, so you can keep it forever.


	14. Play Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much to her surprise, Trevor takes his fiancée out for a picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a sprinkle of sexual tension... Or maybe a whole scoop of it. Enjoy today’s chapter! <3 (Tomorrow? Smut >:3c )

You’re wearing a hat today.

You’re wearing one because it’s sunny outside. It has a wide brim to shade your eyes from the sun, and of course matches your dress and your gloves. What would the point be if it didn’t match the rest of your outfit? To your surprise, Trevor had invited you to go out on a picnic today. After he asked, you asked him “Why?”, to which he responded “Why not?” and then grumbled something along the lines of “If you don’t want to go you can just say it”. You accepted the invitation, of course. So there you are, in the park, seated on the red picnic blanket while you’re choosing what to eat next. Fruits? A sandwich? A tartlet? Or something from the cold cuts? There’s so much to pick from.

Occasionally people walk past the two of you and congratulate you on your engagement. You smile and thank them politely, of course, but you’d rather have them just leave you alone. You can tell from Trevor’s forced smiles that he’s thinking the same thing. Especially when they bring up Jonathan, and how they were “ _so_ convinced” that you would be marrying him.

It’s alright, though. You can tolerate it. After all, everything’s a little brighter with Trevor around. The grass is a little greener, the sky is a little more blue, and the sunshine feels a little more warm. This is all quite ironic, considering how Trevor’s resting face involves him frowning. It makes it look like he’s upset or annoyed all the time. Though, honestly? Maybe he is. The silver lining, however, is that the moments he smiles at you are all the more special and even more precious.

You eventually settle on another sandwich. While chewing, you continue looking at Trevor. He’s seated next to you, watching the ducks swim around in the nearby pond. When he glances at you, you smile at him. “...Why are you looking at me like that?”

There’s food in your mouth, so you simply offer a nonchalant shrug in response.

Of course there is a reason why you’re looking at him like that. The picnic was a pleasant surprise, but still a surprise. You never thought Trevor would do something like that for you. You think back on the conversation you had when you made up, and he brought you those lovely tulips. Is this his attempt at trying to court you properly? The thought makes your heart flutter. Regardless of the intentions behind taking you out here, you’re enjoying yourself, and so his he. That’s what matters the most.

Aunt Sophia is somewhere nearby to chaperone, as is appropriate for her to do. However, she’s also taking the opportunity to gossip and catch up with her friends. Being as well-informed as she is takes a lot of effort, it seems. Occasionally she throws a glance in your general direction to see what you’re doing, but you know she’s not paying that much attention to you and Trevor. She trusts both of you to stay out of trouble.

It doesn’t mean you can’t be trouble _for_ each other, though.

“So, _Lord Belmont_ ,” you begin with a teasing smile. “When will you finally tell me about these powerful enemies of yours?” You grin, your voice turning conspiratorial. “Are they thugs? Or politicians? Or perhaps they could even be crime lords?”

Trevor raises his brows as he listens to you speculate. “Obviously I’m not telling you now when we’re in _public_.”

Rolling your eyes, you let out a sigh. “You’re going to have to tell me eventually, you know.” With a smug look you add, “A husband and wife shouldn’t be keeping secrets from each other.”

“And I _will_ tell you, my dear wife-to-be,” Trevor says, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Not right now, but certainly before our wedding day.”

Your wedding day. It’s still far ahead, but you’re excited just thinking about it. Soon you’ll have to pick a dress. You’ve talked to Trevor about venues already, and agreed that having the wedding at a church will be fine. The reception will be at Carter House, though. Aunt Sophia loves hosting a good party. Then you pause your train of thought. Your wedding day is far ahead. Immediately a frown appears on your face. “But our wedding day is still so far away! It could take _forever_ before you finally tell me.”

Trevor shoots you an annoyed look, but it’s not like that has ever made you back down before. He asks you, “Is there even a single drop of patience in your body?”

With a grin you tell him, “Depends on my mood.”

He thinks about how he can get back at you as he chews on a grape. Then a wicked idea crosses his mind. It’s a little inappropriate. Maybe it’s even a little mean, but surely it’ll be enough to get you off his back. He swallows, then leans closer to you and with a low voice he says, “Are you sure you want our wedding day to arrive so soon? Because you know what we’ll have to do on our wedding _night_ , right...?”

A pleasant shiver goes down your spine. You give him an incredulous stare, though you know you must be as red as the cherry tomatoes in the picnic basket right now. “Really, Trevor?”

Your fiancé grins lazily at you. “You know I’m not wrong. It would be _inappropriate_ if we didn’t.”

You weakly scoff and ask him, “And since when have you ever been one for propriety?” Trevor’s grin only becomes bigger when he sees your composure crumble. “ _Fine_! Your point has been made! _Maybe_ there _are_ things that shouldn’t be discussed in public. I’ll drop the subject,” you tell him with a huff, looking away. Truth to be told, you hadn’t really thought much about the wedding _night_ yet. Of course, in the back of your mind you always knew it would have to happen eventually, but... it’s a little intimidating to think about. You’re not naive, and you know for sure that Trevor is much more experienced than you are. You only hope that he’ll enjoy it too, when the time comes.

You take a tartlet and bite into it to distract yourself, enjoying the sweet yet tangy flavour. It nearly crumbles apart in your hand, so you quickly finish the rest of it. Trevor gives you a blank look. “God, you’re such a messy eater.” Before you have the chance to respond, Trevor reaches over and swipes his thumb over your cheek and the corner of your mouth, just barely brushing over your lower lip. He then puts the thumb in his mouth to lick off the jelly. It sends another shiver down your spine, and you can’t help but just stare at him a little helplessly. Especially now you’ve started to think about your _wedding night_. Trevor slowly lowers his hand. With the way he looks at you, you wonder if he’s going to lean over to kiss you.

Your eyes almost flutter close in anticipation, but then Trevor clears his throat and looks away.

Oh, right. You’re in public.

After taking a deep breath and looking away yourself, you take your hat off and turn around. Then you stretch out, and lie down on the blanket with your head resting in Trevor’s lap. His thighs feel strong and firm, and are actually quite comfortable to rest your head on. You know it’s a bold move, but maybe you would like to start being a little more bold now. If Trevor can go around trying to make you blush, why can’t you do the same to him? He’s only partially blocking the sun, so you can just vaguely see the deadpan look he’s giving you. “What are you doing? Did we not just agree some things are better not said or done in public?”

You close your eyes. “I’m pretending that I’m in love with you.”

You can hear the sound of Trevor snorting, but you can’t see his face. You hope he’s blushing. You want him to blush. “You have to pretend? You wound me.”

Quickly you pull your hat over your face, not wanting to answer him. You’re not sure anymore why you steered the conversation in this direction or why you decided to be so bold. Right now you’re regretting the decision, because you’ve just put yourself in a rather perilous position. Trevor lifts your hat up just enough so you can peek at him with one eye. He looks so handsome. The sunlight from behind him forms a halo around his head, colouring the loose strands of his brown hair a brilliant gold colour. He’s grinning at you.

His heart is racing, but he would never let you have the satisfaction of knowing. Ever so cocky he tells you with a low and sultry voice, “You’re allowed to fall in love with me, you know. We _are_ going to be married, after all.”

You pull your hat to fully cover your face again. You’re sure you’re bright red by now. “I’ll think about it.”

*

“You looked like you had a lot of fun today,” aunt Sophia says with a sly smile during the carriage ride back home.

You glance at her, then look away. “I suppose I did...”

“So...?”

“So, what?” you ask, chuckling nervously.

Aunt Sophia looks at the way you smile nervously, the way you fidget with your dress, and how your cheeks are flushed pink. Then she just lets out an approving hum and looks out the carriage window. She doesn’t need to hear anything else from you. She knows love when she sees it.

She’ll pull some strings to make sure nothing will get in your way.


	15. Prayer (X)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At night, Trevor’s fiancée dreams about their picnic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Enjoy!

“God, you’re such a messy eater.”

Trevor reaches over and swipes his thumb over your cheek and the corner of your mouth, just barely brushing over your lower lip. He then puts the thumb in his mouth to lick off the jelly. You feel yourself nearly quiver with anticipation. Trevor grins lazily at you. “Do you like it when I do that?”

You nod, wide-eyed. You can’t bring yourself to speak.

“Do you like it,” he murmurs, leaning closer, “When I do... this?” Your eyes flutter close as Trevor presses his lips against yours. It’s a short and sweet kiss, but after he pulls back to look at you, you’re immediately left wanting more.

You swallow hard. “I do like it.”

He hums in approval with a cocky smile, then lifts a hand to cup your cheek and kisses you again. Slowly he moulds his lips against yours, taking his sweet time to savour the moment. It’s everything you’ve ever wished for, and more. Trevor swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, and when you gasp he slips it into your mouth. A moan bubbles from your throat. You can taste the jelly from the tart on his lips and his tongue. Is this what Heaven feels like? You never thought you’d find it outside of the Church.

Trevor snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap so that you’re straddling him. You gasp against his lips, not wanting to stop kissing. His hands move to roughly grab your hips and drag them down against him so that you’re grinding on his crotch. He’s hard. You break the kiss, your eyes opening to look at him with flushed cheeks. You’re a little out of breath. “Trevor?” you whisper.

“I want you,” he murmurs, looking at you with half-lidded eyes while his hands give your hips a needy squeeze.

“I want you too,” you breathe out. “But... Here? Now? We’re in _public_ , Trevor!” Still, you’d be lying if you said the thought didn’t excite you just a little bit. He wants you so desperately that he’s willing to take you right here, right now. It thrills you.

Trevor roughly drags down your hips again to make you grind against his clothed erection. You whimper as he brings your lips to your ear. “It’s alright, nobody’s looking. Nobody will know, I promise.” He nibbles on your earlobe before kissing your neck. He bites and sucks on the delicate skin, drawing a moan from your lips. He growls, “Come on, beautiful. Let me fuck you. _Please_. I want you now.”

You nod helplessly, head tilted back to give Trevor access to more skin. “Please do,” you say with a whimper.

The moment he has your consent, Trevor picks you up with his strong arms and lays you down on your back, on the red picnic blanket. His hands are on either side of your head, pinning you down beneath his body while he keeps himself propped up. You look up at him, admiring the way he looks with the sunlight behind him. “I love you,” you blurt out without thinking.

He leans down to kiss you. “I love you too.”

You close your eyes. You feel like you could die of happiness right now. There’s a shy smile on your face as you bite on your bottom lip. You feel Trevor’s hand slide up the skirt of your dress so the fabric pools around your hips, exposing yourself to him. He unbuttons his trousers and though you can’t see it, you can feel the tip of his cock press against your entrance. Trevor leans down to kiss you again. “You’re sure?” he whispers as he trails wet kisses your neck to your collarbone.

With a lovestruck smile you nod, putting your arms around his neck. “I’m sure.”

Trevor pushes into you. You gasp, eyes screwing shut with pleasure. He fills you up perfectly. You’re sure now. This is what Heaven feels like. You exhale with a moan as your body relaxes. Slowly Trevor begins to move his hips, carefully sliding his cock in and out of you as he looks at your face. You smile at him, and he returns it. He rests his forehead against yours, looking you in the eyes before closing his own and capturing your lips again in a desperate kiss. You moan into the kiss, then wrap your legs around his hips. “Harder,” you breathe out your demand.

His cock twitches inside of you when he hears you talk to him like that. Immediately he readjusts, burying his face in the crook of your neck while propping himself up on his forearms on either side of your head. Then he fucks you harder. You arch your back, it feels so good, everything feels so good and so _right_. Trevor moans your name, and it sounds like music to your ears. You slip a hand between your bodies, past the bundled up fabric of your skirt, and begin to rub circles over your swollen clit. Your tights walls involuntarily clench down on Trevor’s cock, eliciting a grunt from him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that,” he growls.

You feel like you’re not going to last much longer either if he keeps fucking you like this. Your fingers speed up, rubbing a little faster and a little rougher over your clit. Your free hand finds its way into his brown hair, and when you grab a fistful of it you feel Trevor’s body tense up. He moves down a hand of his own to roughly hold your hip, then thrusts into you harder and harder.

You’re panting, desperate for your release. His name begins rolling from your tongue like a prayer. “Trevor... Trevor... _Trevor_...”

*

Your eyes snap open and you sit up, a little out of breath. There’s a thin sheen of sweat on your forehead and back of your neck. Your mouth feels dry. It was just a dream. Yet it felt so real. Damn that Trevor. Him mentioning your wedding night had sent you down a spiral of inappropriate fantasies and daydreams. Now those thoughts have even snuck into your nights. You bring your hand to your chest as you try to steady your breathing. You’re painfully aware of how the erotic dream has left you in a rather needy state.

You’re not sure how much longer you can keep pretending. You have to tell him how you feel.


	16. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor’s fiancée hastily makes her way to his home, where she spills the contents of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man. It really took 16 chapters for us to get here, huh? Four chapters left and then this fic will be finished! Thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks, and comments <3 They’re much appreciated! Hold on a little longer, this rollercoaster is almost done... Enjoy!

Your family is already having breakfast when you rush into the room. “Morning,” you say, a little out of breath from running down the stairs, and stand next to the table as you look for something quick to grab and eat.

Aunt Sophia looks up from the paper she’s reading. “Good morning darling, how are—”

“How do I look?” you ask, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face with your right hand, while your left hand grabs a pastry. You didn’t even give Flora the chance to help you do your hair today. You ran straight downstairs after you had gotten up and gotten dressed. You can’t bear to wait any longer to tell Trevor how you feel. You’re so nervous and so excited all at the same time. This is nothing like when you were nervous for Jonathan’s proposal. Your heart is beating loudly in your chest, but your mind has perfect clarity. This feels right.

Your three cousins exchange a look, Prudence and Grace have big grins on their faces and Marcus wears a very entertained smile. Aunt Sophia blinks. “My dear, you look marvellous as always of course. Why don’t you have a seat and join us for breakfast, we have some good news to—”

“Sorry auntie, I’m afraid I have no time for breakfast nor news. I need to go now,” you say, glancing out the window.

Aunt Sophia folds the paper in half, then crosses her arms as she narrows her eyes at you. “Now what’s the rush? Where are you off to?”

You shift your weight on your feet. “I need to visit Trev— Lord Belmont. Can I take one of the horses?”

“You want to go there _alone_?”

Prudence and Grace break out in a fit of giggles, but stop when you shoot them a look. They turn their heads to hide the smiles that are still plastered to their faces. Aunt Sophia looks at you blankly as she waits for your answer. You clear your throat, hold your chin up, and say, “Yes, I want to go there on my own.” Then you hold your breath in anticipation.

Aunt Sophia turns to look at her son. “Well, Lord Carter? What do we think?”

Marcus frowns as he slowly and deliberately taps his chin in thought, looking at you as if he’s having a very difficult time making a decision on the matter. You just _know_ he’s doing it just to get a rise out of you. It’s annoying, and you _almost_ give him the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of you, but you manage to take a deep breath and just stare back. He then grins and waves it off. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, take one of the horses. Just make sure nobody sees you.” Then he points an accusatory finger at you and adds, “And don’t do anything inappropriate!”

Your cheeks colour red. “I would never!”

“Sure you wouldn’t,” aunt Sophia says with a laugh, joined by Prudence and Grace giggling again. “While you’re there, you can share the good news with Lord Belmont too, then. The Buckmans have, mysteriously, decided to move out of London.” She smiles knowingly. “Who would have thought?”

It’s surprising news, and good news. Especially for you and Trevor. Maybe once you would have worried that this would mean he’d call of the engagement, but those worries no longer inhabit your mind. You’re sure aunt Sophia had some role to play in their sudden decision to move, but you’re also sure that she would never tell you. You grin. “Who would have thought, indeed.”

She looks very satisfied with herself. After unfolding the paper to continue reading, aunt Sophia gestures at you to leave. “Now go. Don’t make your fiancé wait any longer.”

*

You quickly knock on the front door.

This is the first time you’ve visited Trevor’s home by yourself, and it feels strange to be the one knocking. Normally speaking one of your servants, or Marcus, will do the knocking for you. The hood of your cloak is pulled up, just to ensure that nobody would recognise you while you’re outside. Of course, you’re engaged to Trevor, but who knows what people will think if they see you visiting his home by yourself. The only thing more scandalous than that would be to visit his house by yourself at night. Finally the door opens to reveal one of the servants, whose bored expression turns to one of surprise when he recognises you. He blinks, and you smile sheepishly at him. He looks behind you to see if there’s anybody with you, then looks even more confused when he only sees your horse.

“Who is it?” you hear Trevor call out from further inside the house.

“Y...Your fiancée, Lord Belmont,” the servant calls back over his shoulder.

Without missing a beat you hear rushed footsteps coming in your direction, and then the servant steps aside to let Trevor see you. He smiles, looking confused and happy all at once. You blush a little when you realise he was only _almost_ finished getting dressed — the top half of his shirt is still unbuttoned, and you have to tear your eyes away from his muscular chest. “What are you doing here?” he asks, putting his hands on your shoulders. He looks behind you. “...No, let me rephrase that. What are you doing here _alone_? And so early in the morning?”

“I came to see you,” you say with a small smile. “Um, my horse...”

“Will be taken care of,” he says, giving the servant a nod. The servant is immediately on it, stepping out of past you and out of the house. Trevor pulls you into the hallway, then closes the door behind you. “I didn’t expect to see you today,” he says with a grin, and he finishes buttoning his shirt. You’re just a little disappointed that the view is gone. “What’s the occasion?” Suddenly his smile is wiped from his face. “Oh God, don’t tell me that somebody _died_ —”

“No! No, it’s nothing like that,” you say and can’t help but chuckle at him assuming the worst. “There’s two things, actually. I should probably start with aunt Sophia’s thing before I forget... The Buckmans have decided to move out of London.”

Trevor crosses his arms, leaning with his shoulder against the wall. “You’re serious?”

“Mhm. Aunt Sophia told me herself this morning. Honestly? I think she probably played a role in it. Good gossip can get a lot more done than you might think.”

“Can also do a lot more damage than you might think,” Trevor reminds you, but then smiles. “It’s good to hear we won’t have trouble from Lord Buckman anymore. Though I can’t help but feel a little sorry for Odessa, she was nice. Much nicer than her father, in any case. Though... the bar is not very high.” You chuckle, but feel your chest tighten. Trevor stands up straight again, taking a small step closer to you. “Tell me, what was the other reason you came to see me?”

You feel like chickening out. Maybe this is all a terrible idea, and you’ll only end up embarrassing yourself when confessing. However, you’re not sure if you can bear being married to Trevor while not knowing whether or not he feels the same way for you. You look up at him, and he smiles. All your worries melt away. With a small voice you tell him, “I woke up and I realised that I have to tell you something.”

“What is it?” Trevor asks quietly.

Here goes nothing, you think.

“I lied to you yesterday, during the picnic. I never had to pretend to be in love with you. I _am_ in love with you. I think I’ve been in love with you from the first moment we met, back at the ball. You... You make me feel alive like nobody else does. You always manage to make me laugh, and I miss you whenever you’re not around. You’re considerate, and so much more compassionate and kind than you give yourself credit for.” You chuckle dryly and brush a loose strand of hair out of your face. “Of course sometimes you piss me off and I can’t stand you, but I...” You smile at Trevor. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re one of my closest friends, you bring out the best and the worst in me... but I don’t think I want us to only be friends, Trevor. Not now. Not when we’re married. I want... I want more. I want you. All of you.”

Trevor looks stunned. He takes a shallow breath, glancing down for a moment as he looks like he’s trying to think of what to say to you.

Oh no. You’re mortified. Your face heats up with embarrassment. “God, Trevor, I’m so sorry,” you stammer, then quickly turn away to head to the front door and leave, “This was a mistake, I’ll— I’ll go home—“

“No, wait.” He grabs your wrist, stopping you. You look at him. He pulls you a little closer to him. “Can I... Can I kiss you?”

You nod.

Trevor lets go of your wrist, sliding his fingertips up over your arm, to your shoulder, over the skin of your neck, and then he cups your cheek with his hand. All the while he looks at you so tenderly, you feel like you could just melt on the spot. He leans down, stepping a little closer to you. You can’t keep your eyes off him. Only when his face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath ghost over your lips, you allow your eyes to flutter close. Then ever so softly, he kisses you. It’s a short and sweet kiss. It’s _perfect_. You open your eyes to look and smile at him, and Trevor smiles back. Then closing your eyes again, you rest your hands on his chest and capture his lips with yours. Trevor moves his arms around your waist to pull your body against his as you kiss him slowly and passionately. Feeling a little bold, you brush your tongue across his bottom lip. He grunts a little in surprise, but parts his lips for you and pulls you even closer against him. Your tongue slips into his mouth, drawing a short moan from his throat.

Suddenly Trevor breaks the kiss, and looks at you with a puzzled grin. “Aren’t you a virgin? Where did you learn to kiss like that?”

You return the grin, but yours is playful and coy. “I’m a virgin, not a nun.”

Trevor laughs, and God do you love that sound. You want to hear it every day for the rest of your life. He gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you again, and again, and again, pressing your back against the wall and pinning your body with his. Then when you’re all out of breath, he gives you a giddy smile while resting his forehead against yours.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


	17. A Good Shot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor’s fiancée has her first encounter with the supernatural.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me already thinking about writing a sequel to this where Trevor and the reader travel around, attending balls, soirées, and hunting monsters together......... Enjoy today’s chapter! Tomorrow? A sprinkle of smut >:)

“I win.”

Trevor groans, throwing his hand of cards next to him onto the sofa. You laugh victoriously, then with a smug smile tell him, “Looks like you’re not as good at this game as you thought, Lord Belmont.”

He collects all of the playing cards, including your winning hand, and then shuffles the stack again. “For the millionth time, the game involves a lot of luck. You just happen to be really lucky.”

You give him an endearing smile. “I really am.” Then lean forward to press a kiss to his cheek. His sour expression is gone, replaced by a smile.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“It’s how I chose to interpret the words,” you say, sitting back in your corner of the sofa and pulling your legs up to your chest. You’ve allowed yourself to completely relax around Trevor, and so has he allowed himself to completely relax around you. It’s such a freeing feeling, to just be able to exist without having to think about the way you present yourself, knowing that the company you’re with unconditionally accepts and loves you the way you are. You cannot imagine what it would be like to endure a loveless engagement or marriage, where you don’t have this kind of luxury. You’re about to recline further against the armrest while you wait for Trevor to deal you another hand, when you look at the window and realise something. “Shit!” You jump up from your spot.

“What is it?” Trevor asks, immediately on edge.

“Look outside, it’s already dark,” you say, walking over to the window and sighing.

Trevor puts away the cards. “Your aunt and Marcus are going to kill me,” he says, getting up and grabbing his coat. “And to think that they’ll kill me when I haven’t even ravished you yet.”

“ _Wedding night_ , Trevor!” you remind him with a grin. “Have some patience.”

He walks over to you, putting an arm around your waist to pull you against his body and capture your lips in a passionate kiss. You can’t help but smile as he tells you, “How am I supposed to be patient when my fiancée is so devastatingly gorgeous?”

You throw your head back to laugh, but it only gives Trevor the opportunity to begin kissing and nipping at your neck. “ _Trevor_!” you repeat, but it’s a little weaker this time. You stifle a moan. “You _have_ to bring me home!” You want to sound like you’re chastising him, but it only comes out as a whine. You bite on your bottom lip and close your eyes, grinning as you feel his free hand move to give your ass a firm squeeze. Trevor is usually very gentle and tender with you, but sometimes he’s a little rougher, a little bolder, a little needier... and you find yourself liking it when he’s like that. You're almost willing and ready to surrender yourself to him, when something catches your attention.

You could have sworn you heard the door creak.

"What was that?" you ask, grabbing Trevor's wrist to stop him.

He looks at the half-open door to the drawing room. You know him well, and you know he's about to tell you that it's "probably just the wind", but he doesn't even have time to do it. Before you can even react to the glowing red eyes in the darkness, Trevor has already pulled you aside as the creature pounces onto the spot you were just standing less than a second ago. He pushes you to the direction of the door. " _RUN!_ "

You're scared out of your wits, but running away and leaving Trevor behind? As if.

The creature, walking on all fours and covered in black fur, turns around to snarl at Trevor. Trevor unsheathes the sword from his hip, and suddenly you think you understand why he's carrying it around all the time. He parries a swipe from the thing's claws, taking a step back to properly stand his ground. The _monster_ lunges at him, but your fiancé manages to move aside in the nick of time and instead the creature crashes into the coffee table. You gasp, jumping back. Trevor takes the opportunity to slash across the monster's hind legs, the sharp sword severing a tendon and drawing blood, sending a splatter of red across the floor and sofa. The monster cries out in pain, then with a severe limp turns around to lunge at Trevor again. The creature impales itself on his sword, its flesh and organs making a disgusting squelching noise. However, it isn't dead yet and it makes sure Trevor knows by pushing forward and clawing at him. Trevor stops the clawed hand from connecting with his face with his left hand, but is quickly overpowered.

Your eyes dart around the room. You're not running, but you _have_ to do _something_ , there has to be _something_ you can do, right?! Think, think, think— You spot something above the mantelpiece. Of course.

Trevor falls onto his back on the floor with a thud, the creature following and pinning him down. "Not this shit again!" he groans, gritting his teeth as he tries to keep the thing from slicing him up into little pieces. Sweat droplets form on his forehead above his furrowed brow. The creature opens its maw, its rancid breath making Trevor nauseous as it slowly brings its teeth closer to his face. This is it, Trevor thinks. Ambushed in his own home by a night creature. He just hopes that you'll make it out alive.

_**BANG!** _

The creature's brains are splattered across the wall and Trevor's face. Slowly the thing slumps onto its side, then slides off Trevor's sword and collapses on the floor. It's dead. Trevor looks at you, wide-eyed and out of breath.

You're holding his hunting rifle.

"I think you just saved my life," he says, his voice a little hoarse.

Slowly you lower the gun and with a tired grin you tell your fiancé, "I think I know now why Aunt Sophia says it's important for ladies to be a good shot."

*

Trevor is standing next to you with his arms crossed. He's wiped the blood and bits of brain off him already, but there's still red smears on his cheeks. After the staff came downstairs to see what was going on, Trevor quickly sent them back to their rooms and told them there was nothing to worry about. The two of you look at the body of the monster you just killed, which is lying in a pool of its own blood.

"So," you begin, breaking the silence. "Powerful enemies, huh."

He clears his throat. "Let's get rid of the body first, then I'll... explain."

Trevor grabs the thing by its hind legs, then begins dragging it through the house, to the garden. It leaves behind a trail of blood and gore, and you feel sorry for the staff he hired. Do they have to deal with this regularly, cleaning up bits of monster? At least it's not boring work... You wonder if they know more about this part of Trevor’s life than you do.

You follow your fiancé into the garden, where he grabs a shovel. He's going to bury it, then. While he looks around for a place to dig, he says, "Sorry you had to see all that blood. I hope you're not too bothered by it?"

A dry snort escapes you. "Trevor, you're delusional if you think that the sight of _blood_ would ever bother any woman."

He pauses as he processes what you just said. When he gets it, he mumbles, "Right, forgot about that for a moment..." When he finds a spot that’s nicely concealed by the azaleas, he rolls up his sleeves and begins digging. "Alright, it's time for me to explain, I suppose... I mean, now is as good a time as ever. Especially now you've seen _and_ killed a monster." He stops digging for a moment to look up at you. His expression is serious, leaving you quiet with anticipation. "I'm from a family of monster hunters. The Belmonts have been monster hunters for generations, going as far back as... Well, the 11th century, if I remember correctly. That's when one of my ancestors, Leon Belmont, swore an oath that our clan would fight evil for all of eternity. So here I am, 6 centuries later, still upholding that oath." He runs a hand through his hair, glancing away for a moment. “Monsters aren’t things that only exist in fairytales or the stories of the Church. They’re very much real, but everybody who knows about their existence thinks it’s best if the general public doesn’t know. The same goes for magic, and... and all other supernatural things, really.” Trevor looks at you, carefully studying your face for a reaction. You can tell that he’s a little nervous.

You're silent as you think everything over. "So you're telling me that this is what I will have to deal with regularly as your wife?"

Trevor casts his eyes down, swallowing the lump in his throat. He was afraid that this would happen. "Yes. It'll be dangerous. If you change your mind about our engagement, I'll understand completely."

You cross your arms. "I should probably get more target practice, then."

Trevor looks up in surprise, then a giddy smile blooms on his face. He drops the shovel, stepping over the monster's body to run over to you and scoop you up in his arms. He's about to kiss you when you stop him, holding your hands between your faces. "Trevor!" you say, laughing. "Maybe wait with the kissing until you're _not_ covered in blood?"


	18. Something Inappropriate (X)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor takes his fiancée out to do “something inappropriate”. They get closer than they ever have before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonjour... It is the promised smut chapter. It’s uh. 3.2k words... I got a little carried away. If smut isn’t your cup of tea, you can skip this chapter and not miss out on too much important plot-related stuff. If it IS your cup of tea... well, then enjoy :^)

A few more days and you’ll be married. It’s been hard sleeping with how excited you are for your wedding. Everything that has happened this season has led up to this. Though many good things have happened, so have many bad things. Still, you wouldn’t have it any other way. Trevor is the one for you. There’s no doubt about it. Soon you’ll be Lady Belmont, and it’ll be a title you’ll wear with pride and love, no matter the dangers it might bring with it. Despite having literally the rest of your lives to spend with Trevor, you just can’t wait for the wedding day. All your things are already packed. The two of you have agreed to move to the Belmont Estate in the countryside after you’ve tied the knot. You’re leaving the day after the wedding. You’ll miss your family, of course, but you’re excited to start this new chapter in your life. Especially because it’s with the man you love.

Eventually you drift off to a peaceful sleep filled with sweet dreams.

...

However, it doesn’t last.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

You turn over in bed, groggily looking at the window where the sound is coming from. The curtains are drawn. Could it be a bird tapping on your window? Would be a damn loud bird if it were.

Another tap.

With a groan you push away your covers and slip out of bed. You roughly pull open the curtains, annoyed by whatever has decided to disturb your sleep. You’ll shoot that bird if you have to. However, looking out of your window, you don’t see anything at first glance. Until you look down, that is.

Trevor is standing in the garden beneath your window, waving at you with a grin on his face. He’s holding pebbles in his free hand.

You blink, then quickly push up the window to lean out. After looking around and making sure nobody is watching nor listening, you whisper-yell at him. “Trevor, what in God’s name are you doing here? It’s the middle of the bloody night!”

From the look on his face you immediately know he’s up to no good. He gestures at you to come over. “Come on down. I want to take you somewhere to do something inappropriate.”

“What?” Your expression is one of pure confusion, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little curious. Trevor gestures at you to come over again, this time a little more urgently. With a groan you pull the window shut and draw the curtains. There’s probably no time to get dressed properly, so you just throw a cloak over your shift and put on the first pairs of stockings and boots you can find. Then as quietly as possible, you sneak down. You’re especially careful when passing aunt Sophia’s room. However, you know you’ll be fine when you hear her snore.

After slipping out through the backdoor and closing it behind you, you run up to Trevor. He picks you up and kisses you before you can ask any questions, earning a muffled cry of surprise from you. Once he’s put you down and broken the kiss, you huff and whisper, “Are you finally going to tell me what you’re doing here?”

“I already told you. I want to take you somewhere to do something inappropriate before we’re married,” he says, then takes your hand in his. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I promise.”

You raise your brows, looking at Trevor’s expectant grin. Your hand is slack within his grip, showing your lingering hesitation. “We’ve been doing nothing but inappropriate things since the start of our engagement, how is this going to be any different? Can’t this wait until daytime?”

“Look, it’s just a few days until the wedding. Anything we do together after that won’t have the thrill of it being “sinful” anymore,” Trevor tells you, which makes you snort dryly. “Come on, it’s just this one time.”

“Hm. Only if you ask nicely.”

Trevor rolls his eyes. “Fine. _Please_?”

*

Trevor has the reins of the horse in his hands. You’re seated in front of him with your back pressed against his chest, feeling safe within his strong arms. It’s a warm night, and slowly you ride out of the city and into the countryside. You look at him over your shoulder and with a cheeky grin you ask, “This is not some elaborate plan to get rid of me before our wedding day, right?”

“If that were my plan, I wouldn’t be taking you here,” Trevor says, returning the grin. He nods at something ahead. “Look. We’re here.”

You turn your head and look at where Trevor has brought you. All you see is a grove of trees. You blink, a little confused. Is this it? Trevor dismounts from the back of the horse, then helps you down. He sees your puzzled expression and takes your hand to hold it and give it a reassuring squeeze. With his free hand he takes the reins of the horse to lead it along as you walk through the trees.

Then you see it.

Beyond the trees is a small lake, surrounded with lush foliage. The water is so perfectly still, it reflects the moon and stars in the inky black sky like a mirror. You hear a distant choir of frogs croaking, calling out to find a mate of their own. It’s beautiful.

Trevor lets go of your hand, and you walk over to the shore of the lake to take a closer look. You’re almost afraid of disturbing the serenity of this place. So you just look, quietly drinking everything in.

“Do you like it?” you hear Trevor ask. You look over your shoulder to see him walking over to you, holding the same red blanket he brought to the picnic, and a bottle of wine. The horse has been tied to a tree by its reins, and has been relieved of its saddle and saddlebags.

“I love it,” you whisper to him, giving him an adoring look. “I never thought you’d think of something so romantic.”

“Ouch,” he tells you, but he’s grinning so you know he’s just messing around. You return the smile, feeling your heart swell. This is the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. God, you can barely believe how lucky you are.

Trevor lays down the blanket close to the shore of the lake, and puts down the bottle of wine. You’re about to sit down when he begins unbuttoning his shirt. Immediately you feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?” you ask, but Trevor just grins at you and takes his shirt off, treating you to a full view of his muscular torso. You want to avert your eyes, but— Oh, who are you kidding. Of course you don’t want to look away. He steps closer to you and you can’t stop looking at him, your breaths shallow with anticipation. His hand brushes over your cheek, then moves down to unclasp the brooch that holds your cloak together. The fabric slides off your shoulders. It falls to the ground and pools around your feet. Trevor looks at you, your body only covered by the thin fabric of your shift. You’re not sure if it’s cold outside. You wouldn’t be able to tell, because you feel like you’re burning up when he looks at you like that. He swallows thickly, then whispers, “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You look down, suddenly feeling a little shy, but Trevor quickly cups your face in his hands and makes you look at him again. “I mean it,” he tells you, his expression completely serious. “I love you. I love you more than anything in the world. I would die for you if you asked me to.”

“Please don’t,” you quickly interject, smiling. “I much prefer you alive.”

He grins, then leans down to kiss you. Trevor’s hands move to your waist, and then your hips. It’s such a passionate kiss, it makes your eyelids flutter close and your body melt against his. You wrap your arms around his neck, and with just a little bit of effort he picks you up. You yelp, laughing as you quickly hold on a little tighter, crossing your ankles behind his back. Trevor kisses your neck and gives your ass a squeeze, earning him a moan.

Then he begins walking.

“ _Trevor_!” you call out when you see the water get closer. “Trevor, I swear, you better not throw me in there!”

“Who said anything about throwing?” he asks, stepping into the lake. You adjust the grip of your legs and your arms so you’re holding onto him even tighter, and as high up as possible. The water surface creeps up his legs as he wades deeper into the water, chuckling as you squirm against him. When the water almost reaches his hips, he gives you the most devilish grin, and you realise this is the last second you’ll still be dry. Trevor lets himself fall back into the water, taking you along with him as you let out a shriek.

There’s a loud splash, and for a moment you’re under water, but quickly you get up and break through the water surface. Trevor is laughing as you chastise him. Then you get an idea. He quickly shuts up when you splash water at him. However, you’ve awaken the more competitive side of him, and soon you’re entangled in a full blown water fight. You’re not sure who’s winning, or if winning is even a possibility in a water fight, and you’re both laughing and chasing after each other in the lake.

Then before you can splash water at Trevor again, he grabs your wrist to stop you and pull you close to him. You’re both a little out of breath, and he grins at you. “Truce?”

“Depends. Do you have a peace offering for me?” you quip without missing a beat.

“I might,” he murmurs, then kisses you again. You close your eyes. This peace offering will do. You feel the grip of his hand on your wrist go slack, and slowly his fingertips move up the wet skin of your arm, over your shoulder, your collarbone, and then up your neck so his hand can cup your cheek. Slowly he moulds his lips against yours, but he gets needier with the second. His other hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you against him. You let out a quiet moan when he slips his tongue into your mouth. Your heart feels like it could beat right out of your chest. This is the closest you’ve ever been, with nothing but the wet fabric of your shift between you. You feel your nipples perk up as your excitement grows. Your hands move to the back of his head, and you run your fingers through his wet hair. When Trevor moves his hand from your back to squeeze your ass again, you grab a fistful of his hair which earns you a moan from him. He effortlessly picks you up out of the water, refusing to break the kiss as he does so.

You quietly moan against his lips, forgetting about the world for a moment while Trevor kisses you so deeply, so passionately, that you truly wonder how anything else could ever matter? He steps out of the water, then walks back to the picnic blanket to kneel and carefully lay you down onto the soft fabric. You look up at him, breathless. Trevor looks at you, a sight to behold, and chews on his bottom lip. He takes in the pink dusting on your cheeks, the way your wet hair is sprawled out around your head like a halo, and your shift plastered to your skin with your nipples just visible through the sheer fabric.

Suddenly remembering that you’re both still soaked, Trevor kicks off his own boots and tosses them away from the picnic blanket. Then he lifts your left leg and slips off your boot before carefully peeling the wet stocking from your skin. He puts both of them aside on the grass before repeating the same careful ministrations for your right leg. You can only lie there and watch him, feeling goosebumps form every time his fingers graze over your skin.

He leans down to kiss your neck, pinning you beneath his body with his knee between your legs. His left forearm keeps him propped up while his right hand slowly explores your body. You inhale sharply when his hand is about to touch your breast, and immediately he stops. Trevor looks at you, his tender gaze seeking permission to continue. After a short moment, you give a nod. You want this. He kisses you on the lips and his fingertips move to brush over your nipple, still covered by the fabric of your shift. You let out a whimper. Quietly he asks you, “Do you like it when I do that?”

You swallow hard, then nod. “Yes.”

He’s about to kiss you again, when you stop him. “Trevor, wait.” He moves his free hand to cup your cheek instead. You continue speaking, “I still want to save it for our wedding night. Doing... everything, I mean.” You feel your cheeks heat up.

Trevor smiles, the corners of his blue eyes crinkling. “Of course.” He presses a quick, chaste kiss to your lips.

He’s about to get up, when you stop him again. This time, he looks confused. With a hoarse voice you tell him, “I don’t want to do... _everything_ yet, but... maybe we can do... just a few things?” You stumble over your words, unsure of how to properly express what you want. What you need.

However, it looks like Trevor picks up on what you’re trying to say. He nods, then kisses along your jaw. His lips move down your neck, gently sucking and nipping at the skin. Whenever you let out a moan or a whimper, he makes sure to kiss the particular spot a few more times. Slowly he works his way to your collarbone, then down the valley between your breasts. Trevor pauses to move his mouth to your left nipple, but he doesn’t touch it yet. His breath feels hot on the sensitive skin. You close your eyes with anticipation, desperate for him to do something, _anything_ , instead of just leaving you waiting and needy.

Finally his mouth encloses your nipple, and he gives it a light suck through the fabric. A moan bubbles from your throat, followed by a whimper when you feel his teeth gently bite down. He stops and looks up at you, looking concerned. “Too rough?”

“A little. It’s sensitive,” you tell him with a giddy smile, still breathless from everything he’s doing to you. You don’t want him to stop. So you decide to tell him. “But... please, keep using your mouth,” you shyly request.

You bite your bottom lip when he presses a kiss to your breast, feeling your head spin with just how much you love him. He murmurs, “Your wish is my command.”

Trevor continues kissing and exploring your body with his lips, moving across your stomach. You feel yourself slowly getting more and more excited as he gets closer to your lower abdomen. After kissing just below your navel, he moves and lies down with his chest between your legs, torso propped up with his forearms.

You look at him as he gently runs his fingers across the length of your inner thigh. You’re so excited and desperate, you feel like you could burst with want and _need_. Softly he asks, “Do you want me to—”

“Yes.”

He lets out a low chuckle.

Trevor moves your legs over his shoulders, your thighs on either side of his head. He presses a kiss to your inner thigh as his hands push up the hem of your shift, exposing your most intimate parts to him. You close your eyes and hold your breath in anticipation. His lips ghost over your vulva, sending a shiver down your spine, and leaving you desperate for more. Then slowly and deliberately, he licks across your inner labia and up to your clit. It draws out a moan from you, and you helplessly arch your back.

“Do you like that?” he murmurs against the skin of your thigh.

“Yes. God, yes.”

“Do you want me to keep going?”

“ _Please_.”

He hums in approval, then returns his mouth to your clit. Your fingers dig into the picnic blanket you’re lying on as Trevor licks and sucks, repeating whatever he did when he hears you moan or mewl his name. His hands hold up your thighs, and you’re grateful that they do, because you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to hold up your legs yourself with everything he’s doing to you. You feel the slight vibration as he moans against your clit, and your own hands move to tangle your fingers in his hair instead. You’ve touched yourself plenty of times already, but this? God, this is so, so much better.

Biting down on your bottom lip and arching your back further, you start feeling desperate for your release. You pull his hair, pulling his face closer into you, which earns you a moan from Trevor. His own fingers dig into the flesh of your thighs, and he speeds up the pace. Your chest rises and falls with each shuddering breath. You can tell that you’re slowly nearing your climax. “Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, exactly like that.”

Trevor hums in acknowledgement, and does exactly what you wanted him to do. He keeps repeating the same motion with his tongue lapping against your clit, turned on by how you’re pulling on his hair even harder now. From how you’re tensing up, he has a feeling you’re close to finishing, and he’s willing to do _anything_ to make sure that you do.

You’re so close. “Trevor,” you whisper. “Trevor,” you repeat, and you want to say more, but you can’t find the words, not when he’s making you feel like you’re about to fall apart completely with pure bliss and ecstasy just with his tongue. You bite down on your bottom lip and whimper, and then gasp.

You come undone, arching your back and letting out a quiet moan. For a short moment you feel like there’s nothing in the world but you, and Trevor between your legs. With a shuddering breath your body relaxes, and Trevor pulls away from you. He gently moves your legs back onto the picnic blanket as he sits up, and pulls your shift down so you’re covered properly again. Without hesitation you sit up, giving him a giddy smile. “That was perfect,” you tell him, putting your arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

“We’ll be able to do this a lot more once we’re married,” he says with a cheeky grin.

“I can’t wait.”


	19. I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s the day of the wedding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is: the second last chapter and the wedding! I tried to make it as romantic as possible with my limited experience. (I’ve never been to a wedding before... I had to Google the Hell out of it...) Tomorrow I’ll post the final chapter to this fic... Enjoy!

“Are you nervous?”

Flora smiles at you as she stands in front of you, fixing the last pieces of your hair and jewellery. Last time you wore the family diamonds, you got engaged. This time, you’re getting married. It’ll be the last time you get to wear them, too. After all, you’ll belong to a new family in just a few hours. You return the smile and tell Flora, “A little, but I’m mostly excited.”

“I can imagine,” she says, carefully pulling out a few strands of hair to frame your face. “You look _so_ beautiful, miss. Lord Belmont is going to feel like the luckiest man alive!”

You can’t stop smiling, and you’re sure there’s a blush on your cheeks as well. You know Flora is doing everything she can to make sure you look perfect, and you know that she’ll do a fine job of it too. This is the last time she’s helping you get ready, and it’s rather bittersweet. Since the day you moved into Carter House she’s always been there for you, to make sure every single one of your needs were met — and plenty of your wants too. You’ve already told her that you won’t be needing her to come with you once you leave. Even though you actually _do_ want her to come with you, it’ll be far too dangerous. Especially with Trevor’s _real_ profession. Still, it makes you a little sad to think about parting from your family. It won’t be goodbye forever, of course, but you’ll see everyone far less. Maybe once or twice a month if you’re lucky? It’s a big change from being with them every day. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Flora,” you tell her, your smile replaced with a tearful look. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Flora gives you an endearing smile, putting her hands on your shoulders. “Oh, miss. No crying on your wedding day! Only tears of happiness are allowed today.”

With a nod you blink away the tears, then smile.

She moves her hands from your shoulders, then takes a step back. After giving you a final look up and down, she nods to herself. “I think we’re done. Come on, turn around, have a look at yourself.”

You do as she tells you to, and turn to look at the mirror.

Looking back at you is the perfect blushing bride. The dress was of your own choosing, and you love it. You already loved it when you tried it on the first time, but that was without your hair pinned up and without the jewellery resting on your collarbone and dangling from your ears. Now Flora has completed the picture for you, and you could just about cry those tears of happiness that she mentioned earlier.

In a few hours, you’ll be married. You feel like you’re the luckiest woman alive.

*

You hold your breath with anticipation. Your hand holds Marcus’ arm. He must be able to tell that you’re a little nervous, because he looks at you with a reassuring smile and he says, “You’re going to be the perfect Lady Belmont for Lord Belmont.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

The doors are opened for you. Finally you can see the place where you will be married. Warm sunlight filters in through the stained glass windows, illuminating the aisle and casting brilliant colours on the stone floor and walls. Bouquets of white flowers and white ribbons are put up as simple decorations, but for you it’s just enough to make the place look magical.

Everybody stands up when they see you. Your family and close friends are all here, but you don’t pay any attention to them. There’s only one person you have eyes for right now. At the end of the aisle, by the altar, stands Trevor. The man you love. He looks so handsome, and you’re reminded of the night you met. Back then, you never would have thought that you’d actually be marrying him one day. Yet here you are, walking down the aisle.

It feels like it’s taking forever to get to the altar. You know it’s proper to do it slowly, but you just can’t wait to stand there next to Trevor. Your chest tightens with excitement and nerves as Marcus leads you closer and closer to your husband-to-be. The attendees all look at you in awe of how beautiful you are, smiling at you when you pass them by. You see aunt Sophia sniffle, then her wipe away a tear of happiness. When you finally arrive at the altar, Marcus sits down on one of the pews next to the rest of your family, and the other guests follow his example. You take your place beside Trevor. He beams at you, and whispers, “You look beautiful.”

You smile behind the sheer white veil. Normally you’d make a joke asking how he knows what you look like behind the fabric concealing your face, but not this time. You accept the compliment wholeheartedly. You can’t see yourself, of course, but Trevor can faintly see your smile behind the delicate fabric, and it makes his heart swell with so much love and adoration. Just a few more minutes, and he’ll be able to proudly call you his wife.

The priest clears his throat. Both you and Trevor tear your eyes from each other to look at the priest instead. The old man begins speaking. “Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today...”

Just a few words in, and you’ve already stopped paying attention. Trevor’s hand has moved closer to you, just out of sight of the priest, and he has linked his pinky finger with yours. The gesture is so subtle, barely noticeable to the guests, but it speaks volumes to you. It’s Trevor reassuring you that everything will be okay, and that he’s here for you. It’s a gesture of his devotion to you, silently letting you know that he’ll always be by your side.

The priest clears his throat again, and you’re snapped out of your thoughts. “Your vows?” he repeats, raising his brows when you finally look at him.

You nod, smiling sheepishly, and then turn to look at Trevor. You take his hands in yours and he looks at you with so much adoration it makes you feel like you could melt on the spot any moment now. After taking a deep breath, you begin. “Trevor, I love you. You are my best friend. Today I give myself to you in marriage, to share the good times and hard times side by side. I promise to encourage and inspire you, to laugh with you, and to comfort you in times of sorrow and struggle. I promise to love you in good times and in bad, when life seems easy and when it seems hard, when our love is simple, and when it is an effort. I promise to cherish you, to be patient with you, to accept you unconditionally, and to share life with you throughout the years.”

Trevor blinks away the tears of happiness, unable to stop smiling. “You just had to go and make me cry on our wedding day, didn’t you?” he whispers, and the two of you share a quiet chuckle. After this, he clears his throat and says your name. He takes a deep breath. “I love you too. Today I pledge my undying love to you, and offer myself to you as a partner in life. You are my guide to love, my every wish, and the person I want to grow old with. I vow to love you in sickness and in health. I commit myself to encourage you in good times and in bad. I will cherish and respect you all the days of our life together. I give you my hand and my heart as a sanctuary of warmth and peace, and pledge my love, devotion, faith, and honour as I join my life to yours.”

You feel your own eyes become misty. The priest looks at Trevor, then asks him, “Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Trevor smiles at you. “I do.”

“Do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

You return the smile. “I do.”

“Then you may now exchange the rings,” the priest tells you. Trevor reaches into his coat pocket, and takes out two perfect golden bands. Gently he slips the silk glove off your left hand, then puts the ring on your ring finger. He hands you the other ring, which you put on his left ring finger. You don’t let go of his hand after you do, brushing your thumb over his knuckles as you beam at him. It’s any moment now.

“By the power invested in me by the Church and the Lord, I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

Trevor takes his hands out of yours to carefully pick up the edges of your veil and lift it, revealing your face. You smile excitedly as he drapes the fabric over the back of your head. Trevor grins at you.

He cups your cheek with his right hand and pulls you close to him with his left, and kisses you.


	20. Lady Belmont (X)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trevor and his wife leave London for the Belmont Estate. At a roadside inn, Trevor shares his worries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it folks! 
> 
> Ahead is the longest chapter I’ve written so far, containing 4k words. Writing this and posting daily was one Hell of a journey. Looking back I would have written some things differently, but, regardless, I’m still satisfied with what I’ve made. Thank you for all the comments, kudos, bookmarks, and just for reading it! Receiving all your positive feedback has been a huge confidence boost for me. I hope to see you all again when I start writing and posting the sequel. Stay tuned for that! 
> 
> For now, enjoy this final chapter <3

The party was one of celebration, and of saying farewell. It will be a while before Carter House will host a party like this again. So many more people were invited to the party than to the actual wedding ceremony, it honestly almost felt like the entire ton was present. The next party this grand will likely be if or when one of your cousins gets married. So everyone made sure to enjoy the celebrations as much as they could. You and Trevor were congratulated many, many times by people left and right. Even Jonathan showed up to congratulate you and tell you that he’s happy for both of you. Much to your surprise, Trevor did the mature thing for a change and apologised for his behaviour. Thankfully, Jonathan accepted the apology and they were able to laugh about it. Seeing Jonathan felt a little bittersweet, but you also knew in that moment that you made the right decision. Jonathan didn’t thrill you like your husband does.

Your husband.

Oh, what a lovely word to be able to say now.

However, even good things eventually come to an end, and so does the party. After the guests have left, your luggage is brought to the carriage waiting outside the front door of Carter House. You’ll be leaving for the Belmont Estate, travelling with what few hours of light you have left today. Trevor’s guess is that you’ll arrive there by tomorrow evening. It’s quite remote and far into the countryside. You look forward to leaving the bustle of the city, and having some peace and quiet during your honeymoon. Though you’re not sure how much peace and quiet you will actually get, with Trevor being... Trevor.

This means it’s now time to say goodbye. The only part of getting married that you dreaded. You’re all standing outside the house, your husband waiting for you to say your goodbyes by the carriage. You give your family a small, hesitant smile. “Well, I’ll be off, then.”

“Goodbye miss,” Flora says, wiping away a tear. “Stay safe, will you? And if you ever change your mind, I’ll gladly travel to your new home to serve you there.” You’re trying your best not to cry, but Flora is already making it difficult. You give her a tight hug.

Then you turn to Prudence and Grace. Smiling at them, you tell them, “Now will you two promise me you’ll behave and not be too much of a handful for your mother and brother?” Immediately the twins grin widely at you, and you know that there’s no way they’re going to promise you anything like that. With a laugh you pull both of them into a hug, pressing kisses to their foreheads. They hug you back and make you promise you’ll let them stay at the Belmont Estate during the summer. You’re sure Trevor won’t mind, it might even liven up the place a bit.

Next you turn to Marcus. He gives you a proud smile. “Look at you, cousin. All grown up, and a married woman no less.” His smile turns into a teasing grin. “It’s a miracle we found a match for you during this season.” You roll your eyes, then give him a hug. You’re going to miss joking around with him like that. To make sure you get the last laugh, you ask him when _he_ will finally find a match, because that would be the real miracle. It earns you an indignant “ _Hey_!”, but also a chuckle.

Finally you turn to aunt Sophia. Her eyes are misty, and she’s trying her very best to hold back her tears. It’s almost enough to make you cry as well. She quickly pulls you into a hug. You hear her sniffle a little. “Promise you’ll write often?” she croaks, blinking her tears away. “And make sure you eat well, and take good care of yourself when you’re sick, alright?” You nod, giving her a brave smile as you try to hold your own tears at bay.

“I promise, auntie. I’ll write and visit as much as I can,” you tell her, your voice cracking halfway the sentence. You swallow the lump in your throat. “Goodbye, everyone. I’ll write as soon as we arrive.”

You turn around, walking over to Trevor and taking his hand when he offers it to you. He helps you into the carriage, then follows suit and closes the door behind him. When you’re both seated, the driver clicks his tongue to urge the horses to start walking. Slowly the carriage begins to move away. Your family waves at you as you leave.

*

You made it to the inn just before it started raining.

The owner offered you a warm welcome to the establishment, insisting on giving you a quick tour around the inn the very moment you arrived. It’s a fairly large wooden building on the side of the road, the exterior illuminated by lanterns put up on the walls. The first thing you thought when you saw it was that it’s rather cute, like something out of a fairytale. Your luggage is taken care of and brought to your room. The bed there looked very comfortable, and you suppose you would normally wonder if Trevor would mind testing it out with you. However, that’s not what’s on your mind now.

While seated at the dinner table set for you both, you look out the windows. The skies are dark, and quietly you watch and listen to the rain tap against the glass. “We’re lucky we arrived before it started raining, don’t you think?”

“Mhm.”

You turn to look at Trevor, who is seated opposite you.

He’s has slowly grown more and more quiet as your journey has progressed. When you just left London he was in high spirits, but now he almost exclusively replies in hums, or in sentences consisting of less than three words. You can only barely get a forced smile out of him whenever you make a joke. He’s witholding and hesitant in his displays of affection, and what few kisses you _do_ get feel half-hearted. It’s worrying. The last time you’ve seen him like this was during the early stages of your engagement. You glance up at him while you chew on a bite of food, and see that he has a far away look in his eyes. The candlelight would normally serve to make the mood a little more romantic, but now it just highlights the forlorn frown on his face. Trevor pokes at his food with his fork, looking like he doesn’t have much of an appetite.

Despite this, he’s on his third whisky now.

You put your fork and knife down when he tips back his glass and finishes the rest of his drink. He inspects the now-empty glass with mild interest, not noticing your worried expression. After setting it down he’s about to lift his hand to flag down a waiter — no doubt for another glass — but you stop him by taking his hand in yours. The physical contact finally makes him look at you.

“Trevor?” you say quietly, and he seems to immediately understand what you’re trying to ask him.

He lowers his head. It breaks your heart to see him like that. After clearing his throat he tells you, “Right. I’ve probably had enough for tonight. Shouldn’t indulge too much.”

You offer him an encouraging smile and a nod, then pick up your silverware once again. Wordlessly you both turn your attention to your meals. There’s only the quiet chatter of the other patrons and the soothing sound of the rain. You know there’s not much use trying to make conversation now, not when his mind is elsewhere. Drinking as much as he wanted to doesn’t really look like indulging to you, but you’ll ask him about that later. You’ll likely want the privacy of your room for that conversation.

*

Carefully you brush your hair, seated by the vanity and looking at yourself in the mirror as you do. The room is only dimly illuminated by the candles, but it’s enough for you to see what you’re doing. Trevor is already in bed. From the reflection of the mirror you can see him stare at the ceiling, still lost in thought. He’s obviously worried about something.

You sigh and put the brush down on the vanity. Then you turn around in the chair to look at your husband, who has looked up at the sound of your sigh. You wear a concerned expression while you say, “Trevor, you’ve been quiet and looking depressed all evening. What’s the matter?”

He averts his gaze and returns to staring at the ceiling. “I don’t want to worry you.”

Stepping lightly across the wooden floor, you make your way over to the bed. Trevor looks at you again. You lift the covers and quickly crawl under them, then immediately cosy up to your husband. Your hands hold his arm tightly to your chest as you lie as close to him as possible, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Did you forget the vows we made earlier today? Let me help you carry the weight of your worries. Talk to me, Trevor.”

He lets out a short sigh, then kisses your forehead. “I’m nervous about returning to the Estate. I haven’t been back home since... Well. You know.” Your hand moves to find his, and when it does you lace your fingers together to give him a little more reassurance. Your short nod lets him know that you understand and that you’re listening. He continues, “I couldn’t bear to be alone there. It used to be such a lively place, and then in one night it just... There was nobody left. Not even the servants. Just me. I had to bury everyone.” You see his eyes become a little misty, and your heart shatters. He swallows hard. “When I left, I locked up the place and didn’t look back. Didn’t even hire anyone to take care of it while I was gone. God knows what kind of state the building is in now. The gardens must be overrun with weeds. I know I’ve got you with me this time around, but I... I can’t help but feel this... sense of dread. Restoring everything back to working order feels like such a daunting, impossible task.”

“I understand that you feel that way,” you whisper, giving his hand a light squeeze. “But like you said, you’ve got me with you this time around. I can’t change the past, but I’ll try my best to make going back home and moving forward a little easier. You don’t have to do this on your own. In fact, I implore you not to do this on your own, but to share your worries with me whenever they cross your mind. We’ll hire new staff who are open-minded and can keep up with your monster hunting endeavours, we’ll get the building fixed up if need be, and I’m sure the garden can be tamed if it’s overgrown. Maybe I’ll even do a little redecorating if I feel like it.” Your last remark, which is said with a grin, earns you a chuckle from Trevor. You press another kiss to his shoulder. “I know I’m not a miracle worker and I can’t fix everything, but that won’t stop me from trying my best to help you. I’ll pull every last weed out of that garden with my bare hands if I must.”

Trevor gives you an endearing smile, already looking a little less anxious than before. “Thank you. You’re right. I suppose I was mostly afraid of being alone again, but I’m not alone. I have my smart and beautiful wife, who already has a fantastic track record of saving me from bad situations.” He puts his arms around you, pulling you on top of him so you’re lying on his chest. Your legs are tangled. With a grin you prop yourself up on your forearms, which rest atop his strong chest. Trevor’s hands find their way to the small of your back, where he holds you in place.

You look at him, his face so close to yours. You like it much better now that he’s smiling at you. Those blue eyes of him drew you in the first time you saw him, and you still find that your heart flutters just a little whenever he looks at you like that. Every single bit of him is perfect to you, just as it all already was perfect to you when he introduced himself to you. You love how his hair is just a little wild and a little messy. You love the shape of his brow, his cheeks, and his cheekbones. You love how the stubble on his jaw is just a little rough when he kisses you. It feels like you’ve known each other for ages. Has it truly been only a few months? You can hardly believe it.

You lean forward to kiss him. Against his lips you whisper, “Maybe your smart and beautiful wife can help you take your mind off of things for a while?”

Trevor almost instantly breaks the kiss, looking at you with a rather shocked expression on his face. “...Surely you don’t mean...?” But you do, and he can tell from the way you’re looking at him. You bite your bottom lip. This is the first time you’ve seen him blush like that. You find yourself quite liking it. At some point you should find more ways to make him blush. Trevor clears his throat and quietly asks, “Now?”

“Today was our wedding day, and now is our wedding night, is it not?”

He swallows hard. Then he continues, “I mean... Here? Are you not weary from travelling? Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we’ve arrived at the Estate? The beds there might be more comfortable, after all I know it’ll be your first time...” He trails off, looking concerned for you.

You give him an endearing smile, pressing another quick kiss to his lips. “I’m not tired, and any bed will suffice as long as you’re in it with me.”

He blinks, then chuckles. “Good answer.” After a short moment of hesitation, Trevor kisses you again.

It’s soft and tender, much more gentle than he usually is. His fingertips gently trace up and down across your back. It’s a soothing yet exciting sensation, making you quietly moan against his lips. You slightly tilt your head to deepen the kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth and drawing out a moan from him. You don’t want soft and tender right now. The kiss grows more and more fervent, your whimpers and moans becoming louder. You feel a hardness press against your abdomen, and realise that Trevor must be just as excited as you are.

You break the kiss to sit up, pushing the covers away, then straddle his hips to grind down on his clothed erection. He groans, tilting his head back while his fingers dig into your thighs. Your own hand slips underneath the hem of your shift and between your legs. You rub small circles over your clit as you continue grinding down on him, your chest rising and falling with excited breaths. Trevor looks up at you pleadingly, biting on his bottom lip in a feeble attempt to suppress his moans, but he fails to do so. You like it when you can take the lead like this. You like seeing how your actions reduce him to a desperate, whimpering mess.

Feeling a surge of confidence, you lift the hem of your shift all the way over your head, taking it off and discarding it onto the floor. Trevor inhales sharply, his hands immediately moving to your hips and giving them a light squeeze. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs. You smile at him. You take his right hand, leading it up across the plane of your stomach to your breast.

“I want you to touch me here while I touch myself,” you tell him, and all he can do is nod and do as you requested. His hand greedily squeezes your breast, thumb circling across the perky nipple. You whimper and close your eyes, moving your fingers to feel your entrance. When you notice that you’re already slick with excitement, you sit back a little. Looking down, you find that you’ve left behind a wet spot on Trevor’s crotch. You grin at him sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he quickly says, sitting up while you’re still in his lap. You put your arms around his neck to pull him close and kiss him, his own hands finding their way back to your hips.

After a short moment you break the kiss. “Trevor, I want you.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face.

You nod. “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

He smiles, then moves his hands under your ass to lift you up a little. He turns both of you around, laying you on your back with your head on the pillows, and his body above yours. You look up at him as he remains on his knees, slipping off his pants and discarding them. Your eyes go wide when you see him completely naked, especially when they trail down...

“Oh,” you say with a small voice.

“I hope it’s not disappointing,” he says jokingly, which makes you giggle. He moves to lie down on top of you, nestling his hips between your legs as his arms prop up his torso. You bite down on your bottom lip when you feel his cock press against your core.

“It’s not disappointing at all,” you tell Trevor, your hands on his shoulders. “You’re just... bigger than I expected.”

He raises his brows. With a deadpan tone he says, “I’m not sure if I should take that as an insult or a compliment.”

“I recommend taking it as a compliment,” you tell him, capturing his lips with yours in a kiss. You feel him grin, then he deepens the kiss. Slowly you turn your attentions back to what you were doing, rather than joking around. Your hands roam his chest, then one of them moves further down. Hesitantly you wrap your fingers around his cock. Trevor inhales sharply, looking at you with eyes darkened by lust. You begin moving your hand, eliciting a quiet groan from him as his breaths become more shallow.

“Trevor,” you whisper. “I want you inside me. Now.”

Trevor swallows hard. “Don’t you want me to finger you first, so maybe it won’t hurt?”

You shake your head. “I... I want you to fuck me.”

He shivers when he hears you speak. He’s sure that if you kept going and kept talking to him like that, he wouldn’t last long. However, that’s not what he wants now. He sits up on his knees again, and you move your hand away from him, resting it on your chest instead. You watch in anticipation as Trevor spits in his hand, then strokes across the length of his cock to lubricate himself. When he’s on top of you again, he keeps himself propped up with his left arm, and uses his right hand to align himself with your entrance. You feel the tip of his cock press against you, and it makes you nervous and excited all the same. There’s a tender and slightly worried look on his face. “This will likely hurt a little, so tell me if I have to stop.”

You smile at him and nod.

Trevor rests his forehead against yours, looking at you lovingly. Then he carefully pushes into you. Your eyes screw shut and you whimper. It’s nothing like the few times you’ve dared to slip in one of your own fingers. However, after a moment of adjusting, you look up at him again and whisper, “I think... I think you can continue. Just be gentle. Please.”

He nods. His right hand moves to your abdomen and he tells you, “Tell me if this helps.” His thumb finds its way to your clit, and begins slowly rubbing it. Immediately you feel it help ease the pain, and make your tight walls relax. You smile with half-lidded eyes, biting on your bottom lip, then offer him a nod in response to his question.

Satisfied with the answer, Trevor slowly pushes further in while he rubs circles over your clit. You close your eyes as he fills you up. When he’s fully sheathed inside you he lets out a moan, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You feel the roughness of his stubble paired with soft kisses on your skin. A pleased sigh escapes your lips. You slightly turn your head to whisper against his ear, “Trevor, fuck me.”

You feel his cock twitch inside you. He obliges, beginning to move his hips. Slowly he pulls back before pushing into you again. He repeats this a few times as you get used to the feeling, but when you move your legs to dig your heels into his ass and push him into you, he gets the hint that you don’t need anymore time to adjust. With a grunt he repositions himself a little higher, pushing your legs closer to your body to achieve a different angle. Then holding himself up by grabbing your thighs, Trevor finally begins to properly fuck you.

You gasp and then let out a whimpering moan, your eyes rolling back with pure bliss as he hits the exact right spots. There’s not a single trace of pain or discomfort left, your own pleasure overshadowing it all. Trevor bites down on his bottom lip, looking at you writhe and mewl beneath him as he thrusts into you. Whenever you clench down on his cock he has to suppress a groan, but he fails most of the time. Your slickness and warmth make him feel like he’s died and gone to Heaven. He picks up the pace, making you arch your back as his cock slides in and out of you quicker and harder. The wet sounds of your lovemaking fill the air, accompanied by your moans, Trevor’s pants, and the rain tapping against the window.

Your hand moves to your swollen clit, and your fingers begin rubbing circles. You’re desperate for your release, and you can tell that Trevor is too. Between whimpers you say, “Trevor, I don’t think I’m going to last much longer.”

“Me neither,” he admits. He’s already struggling not to finish too soon, and the way you’re looking at him is making it even harder. His eyes widen a little when he seems to remember something. “Should I,” he pauses to suppress a groan, “Should I finish inside you or outside?”

A shiver runs down your spine. Your lips part as you think about your answer. “I want you to finish inside me,” you whisper.

Trevor bites down on his bottom lip, only able to nod in response. He picks up his pace again, drawing out a moan from you. You throw your head back, eyes fluttering closed as you start panting. Trevor’s grip on your thigh tighten, and his thrusts start feeling desperate. You feel your climax draw near. It won’t be much longer. You look at your husband through half-lidded eyes and whimper, “Trevor, I think I’m going to... I...”

You arch your back as you topple over the edge, feeling nothing but pure ecstasy. The tightness of your orgasm clenching down on Trevor’s cock is enough to make him come undone as well, as he gets in one final thrust before finishing inside you. You feel his cock twitch with his climax as he ejaculates his semen into you. After both your orgasms have finished, you take a moment to catch your breaths. Wow, is all you can think. You feel absolutely delightful, which is made clear by the smile on your face. Trevor looks at you and returns it. Carefully he pulls out, then lowers your legs so you can lie down comfortably. His semen slowly drips out from your entrance. You’ve ruined the sheets, but that’s a problem for tomorrow morning.

Trevor falls onto the bed next to you, then leans over to kiss your lips. “That was amazing. I love you,” he murmurs, sounding tired.

“I love you too.” You break the kiss to look at Trevor with a breathless smile. “You know, we should do this more often.”

He takes your left hand, then kisses the finger wearing your wedding ring. “Whatever you wish, Lady Belmont.”


	21. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lord and Lady Belmont return to their family’s estate, and discover a new enemy: dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, it’s me! I wrote a cute little epilogue to tie up some loose ends.
> 
> I also still have two deleted scenes in my drafts that I wrote but at some point removed because they didn’t make sense in the story. One involves the reader and her cousin Marcus, the other involves the reader and Odessa. I’m not sure if I should post them here or in a separate work, but let me know if you would like to see them!
> 
> One last thing: I am in fact writing a sequel! You may or may not have noticed that this work now belongs to a series called “Lady Belmont”. Her adventures are not quite over yet. I’m definitely going more for the mystery/action/adventure approach in the sequel, but don’t worry! There will be plenty of romance and steamy sex scenes ;)
> 
> I bid you goodbye — for now! Enjoy the epilogue!

With one smooth motion you pull the white sheet from the sofa. A cloud of dust rises from the fabric with it, making your nose itch. After coughing, you fold up the sheet and place it onto the ever-growing pile on the floor.

The garden was nowhere near as overgrown as Trevor had feared it would have been. The true menace is the dust. God, there's dust everywhere. You've opened all the windows and cleaned every surface you can reach (Trevor cleaning those you _can't_ reach), but you feel like you've barely made a dent in how much there is left to do.

You've already sent out letters of hiring, of course. The Belmont Estate is large, and will need proper staff to keep it running. Though you do _understand_ , you could still hardly believe it when Trevor confessed he’d left behind the Estate (and thus the land that his family owned, with all its tenants) without even a _steward_ to manage it in his absence. There was and still is a _lot_ of catching up to do in terms of work. However, it's taking rather long to get responses to the letters. Not because the salary is less than generous, oh absolutely not. You're probably paying twice what most families would pay. No, you and Trevor both know the exact reason why nobody is responding.

It's because there's a clause in there that requires applicants to be able to defend themselves in a fight.

Trevor throws another sheet onto the pile. The last one for this room. "Now we've got a place to sit."

"And a place for you to lose at card games," you add with a teasing smile.

Your husband rolls his eyes.

"We need to bring these outside and put them up to air, and maybe get started on cleaning the guest bedrooms as well. I’ve already received letters from both Prudence and Grace, asking when they can visit," you say, crossing your arms as you look at the pile of white sheets. "Though... What time is it? We might have to get started on supper soon."

"I'm sure all of that can wait," Trevor says, taking your hands into his and pulling you into a hug. He wraps his arms around you, then kisses your forehead. "Why don't we do something else first? We've been doing nothing but cleaning and paperwork these past few days. We could perhaps do something fun." You don’t have to look at him to know that he has a devilish smile on his face.

You hum, pressing your cheek against his chest. "Then I don't want to hear you complain later that you're hungry."

"...Actually, supper sounds great."


End file.
